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UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00032703156 


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Form  No.   471 


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i  -» I 


DISCOVEREPiS 


AM) 


PIOIEEES   OF  AMERICA. 


Br 


H.    F.    PAEKEE. 


NEW  YORK: 
DERBY   &   JACKSON,   498    BROADWAY, 

1860. 


ftxTBaso  ueeordmg  to  Act  of  Congreas,  in  the  t&ai  ic  A  a; 

DEtthY    &    JACK.4DN, 

U  the  Clerk'*  C^c«  of  Um  CUtriet  Court  of  the  Uailed  States,  for  the  South«n)  District  of  N*if  York. 


W.  H,  TiKsoy.  Stereotyper.  Poonby  &   Russsll,  rn.Ter*. 


, TJ        tftt 


■WHOSE   LOVE  WAS  XKD  IS 

A  S'^.'EET,  MOHNING  LIGHT  OF  LIF?, 

CJ)i3  Uolume 

2S    AFFECTIONATELY  INSCRIBED 
BY    HSB 

DAUGHTEP 


PREFACE. 


Thk  planet  that  heralds  the  sunrise,  may  be  a  volcanic 
waste,  like  the  moon,  or  scathed  with  the  fires  of  sin,  like 
the  earth ;  and  so  the  morning  stars  of  heroism,  that  guided 
and  illumined  the  first  advances  of  a  noon-day  civilization  to 
this  Western  World,  were  not  all  as  cultivated  and  pure  as 
those  followers  of  the  one  "  bright  and  morning  Star,"  who 
colonized  the  shores  of  Plymouth  and  the  banks  of  the 
Delaware.  Whoever  was  illustrious,  for  any  reason,  in  the 
early  history  of  America,  may  be  included  in  the  number ; 
and  some  of  the  most  promiment  of  these,  particularly  they 
who  may  represent  different  portions  of  North  America, 
have  been  selected  as  subjects  of  the  following  sketches.  A 
number  of  characters,  deserving  an  equal  place  with  some 
of  those  now  chosen,  were  omitted  for  want  of  room. 

The  author  trusts  that  the  bringing  of  them  together  in 
one  volume,  is  a  plan  that  offers  the  novel  interest  of  a  close 
comparison  of  each  character  with  the  others,  and  one  that 
bas  been  carried  out  with  all  the  fidelity  which  an  examine- 


VI  PK  E  F  ACE. 

tion  of  Colonial  chronicles  in  the  libraries  of  New- York,  can 
ensure.  Some  of  the  sketches,  such  as  those  of  Lady  Ara- 
bella Johnson  and  Miles  Standish,  claim  to  be  more  complete 
than  any  existing  ones  —  at  least,  of  like  brevity. 

To  reproduce  the  scenes  and  present  the  scenery  of  distant 
times  and  places,  so  as  to  make  them  realities  to  the  reader, 
recourse  has  been  had  to  several  elaborate  works  on  geogra- 
phy, science  and  costume,  and  books  of  modern  travel.  A 
simple  regard  to  truth,  and  not  an  indulgence  in  fancy  and 
exaggeration  for  popular  effect,  has  been  the  cherished  rule 
in  preparing  this  unpretending  volume. 


CONTENTS. 


I. 

CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS. 

PAOS. 

Genoa.— Columbus  a  Student— A  Sailor.— :N'avigation.— A  Por- 
trait—Columbus'  Tbeory.— A   learned   Assembly.— A  Tra- 
veler.—  Convent — Friars. —  Cordova. —  Disappointment — A 
Kingly  Suppliant — Bigoted  Philosophers. — La  Rabida. — ^The 
Spanish   Court   at    Grenada, — Isabella's    noble    Decision. — 
Alarm  at  Pales. — Voyage.— Perils.— Superstition. — The  first 
Glimpse  of  the  New  World. — Landing. — Columbus  a  Prince. 
— Search  for  the  Grand  Khan. — Shipwreck. — Nina  Alone. — 
Arrest  in  the  Island  Chapel. — Arrival  at  Palos. — Excitement 
Princely  Reception. — Superiority  of  Genius. — Second  Voyage. 
"Lord  of  the  Golden  House." — Mysterious  Fate  of  a  Col- 
ony.—Cavalier   Workmen.— Search    for    Gold.— Columbus' 
Temptation. —  Persecution. — A   Cruise. — Three    Brothers. — 
Captive  Cacique.— Return  Voyage.— Forlorn  Crew. — Colum- 
bus a  Friar. — Third  Voyage.— The  Orinoco. — Rebels  of  His- 
paniola.— Injustice.— An    Upstart's   Sceptre.— Columbus    in 
Chains. — Indignation. — Columbus'    Triumph  in  the  Alham- 
bra. — Fourth  Voyage. — Return    and   Disappointment. — Old 
Age  and  Death. — Character 13 


Vm  CONTENTS. 

11. 

AMERICUS    VESPUCIUS. 

His  Birth. — Florence. — The  Conyent. — The  Plague. — Vespu- 
cius'  Pursuits. — Duplicity  of  Bishop  Fonseca. — Disputed  Voy- 
age.— Beaut}'  of  the  New  World. — Centaurs. — An  Epicurean 
Pace. — "City  of  Bridges." — Indians  Enslaved. — Return  to 
Cadiz. — Marriage. — Voyage. — Eccentric  Companions. — Paria. 
— Grotesque  Customs. — Vegetable  Houses  and  Umbrellas. — 
Giants. — San  Domingo. — Cargo  of  Slaves. — Return  to  Spain. 
— Americus  in  Portugal. — "Land  of  Pearls," — Luxuriant 
Scenery. — Patriarchs. — ^Triumph  of  Science. — "  Can  ope"  of 
the  South. — Tempest — Reception  at  Lisbon. — Americus  hon- 
ored.— Commands  a  Fleet. — Shipwreck. — Mariners  in  Brazil. 
— Americus  in  Spain. — Ferdinand  and  Fonseca. — Disappoint- 
ment.— Death. — Unknown  Grave. — Ills  Character. — Disputed 
Fame 68 


III. 
FERDINAND    DE  SOTO. 

Furor  of  Discovery. — Youth  of  De  Soto. — lie  embarks  for  the 
Indies. — Joins  Pizarro. — Horsemanship. — Atahualpa. — Death. 
— De  Soto's  Reproaches. — His  Wealth. — Return  to  Spain. — 
Magnificent  Display. — Noble  Marriage. — Governor  of  Flori- 
da.— Expensive  Fleet. — Southern  Scenery. — A  Pocahontas. — 
Slavery.  — Difficult  Exploration.  — Treachery, —  Famine.  — 
Indian  Queen  — Obstinacy  of  De  Soto. — Proud  Cacique. — Bat- 
tle.— ^Fire. — ^Discovery  of  the  Mississippi, — Indian  Fleet. — 
"Son  of  the  Sun." — The  Cacique  Foes. — De  Soto  a  Peace- 
maker.— A  Troop  of  Laplanders. — Second  Encampment. — 
Famine  and  Desolation. — De  Soto's  Disappointment. — His 
Death. — Midnight  Burial. — Return  of  his  Followers  to  Spain. 
•—Character  of  De  Soto 105 


CONTENTS.  IX 

TV. 

SIR    WALTER    RALEIGH. 

Raleigh's  Chiiracter. — Youth. — Military  Pursuits. — His  Intellec- 
tual Industry. — Exploits  in  Ireland. — His  Personal  Attrac- 
tions.— Anecdote  of  Queen  Elizabeth. — Raleigh  a  Courtier. — 
Enriched  — Equips  a  Fleet. — Yirginia. — Raleigh  a  Knight.— 
Prepares  a  Second  Expedition. — Roanoke. — Introduction  of 
Tobacco. — Anecdotes. — A  City  Founded. — Desolation  of  Ro- 
anoke.— First  Birth  and  Baptism  in  Virginia — Reinforce- 
ment fails. — Fate  of  the  Colonj-. — Raleigh  a  Hero. — A  Rival 
Appears. — Rustication. — A  Poet. — Restoration  to  Royal  Fa- 
vor.— Expedition  to  Panama. — Return  to  England. — Impris- 
onment.— Marriage. — Membership  of  Parliament. — Expedi- 
tion to  Guiana. — Search  for  El  Dorado. — Return. — General 
Contempt.— Action  at  Cadiz.— The  Rivals  at  Fayal. — The  Ri- 
vals at  Court— Irish  Estates.- The  Potato.— Raleieh  in  "Sol- 
omon's"  Court— Arrest—The  Trial.— The  Tower.— A  Wife's 
Devotion. — Twelve  Years'  Imprisonment — Guiana. — "Pira- 
tas  !" — Solitary  Imprisonment — A  Tyrant — Death  Warrant. 
— Execution. — Carew  Raleigh 137 

Y. 

HENRY    HUDSON. 

Navigation. — Diminutive  Fleet — Crimson  Snow. — Crystal  Ar- 
chitecture.— Flowers. — Icebergs. — An  Escape. — Second  Voy- 
age.— Midnight  Sun.— A  Mermaid. — Nova  Zembla. — Return 
to  England. — The  Half  Moon. — Savages. — Grapes  of  EschoL 
— Jersey  Shore. — Dutch  Craft  and  Costume — Indian  Trad  tion 
•—Manhattan.— The  great  River. — The  Highlands  and  Pali- 
sades.— Captives. — Magical  Mountains. — Puzzled  Dutchmen, 
—a  Drunken  Chief.— A  Battle.— Return  to  England.— Third 
Voyage. — Iceland. — Fantastic  Fountains. — Profligates. — Jap- 
anese Icebergs. — An  Ice-locked  Ship. — Hudson's  Straits  and 
Bay. — A  Labyrinth. — A  Northern  Winter. — Famine. — Muti- 
ny.—a  Judas.— A  Noble  Spirit—Cruel  Fate  of  Hudson.— Re- 
tribution.— Character  of  Hudaon. 2fl€ 


X  CONTENTS. 

VI. 

CAPTAIIf    JOHN    SMITH 

PaG« 

His  Character. — Birth. — Wanderings. — A  Highland  Friend. — 
Smith  a  Soldier. — A  Courtier. — An  Adonis. — A  Hermit. — A 
Traveler. — A  Jonah. — A  Crusoe. — A  Pirate. — Smith  in  Ital3% 
— Turkey. — Knightly  Combat. — ^Thrice  a  Victor. — Splendid 
Ke^vard. — Smith  a  Slave. — He  Escapes. — His  Benefactress. — 
Travels  in  Europe  and  Africa. — A  new  field  of  Adventure. — 
American  City  Founded. — An  Expedition. — Treachery. — An 
Indian  Shield. — Smith  a  Captive. — Powhattan's  Palace. — Po- 
cahontas.— Smith's  Power. — Coronation  in  the  Forest. — Smith 
a  President. — His  Success. — An  effective  Cure. — An  Acci- 
dent.— He  Returns  to  England. — An  Expedition. — A  Prison- 
er.— ^Escape. — Pocahontas'  Grief  and  Death. — Captain  Smith's 
Last  Years  and  Death 249 

vn. 

CAPTAIN    MILES    STANDISH. 

Standish  and  the  Pilgrims. — His  Ancestors. — Exiles  in  Holland. 
Providential  Choice. — The  Departure. — A  Forest  Home. — 
Desolation. — Indian  Mounds. — ^A  Skirmish. — ^The  first  Sab- 
bath.— ^A  new  Leyden. — Afflictions. — Death  of  Rose. — Mili- 
tia Training. — A  Scene. — An  Indian  King. — An  Exploit. — 
Courtship. — Standish  in  the  "Meeting-house." — Evil  over- 
come with  Good. — An  "Eye  for  an  Eye." — A  boastful  Gi- 
ant.— Standish's  Intrepidity. — His  Honors. — ^His  Home. — 
Scenery  of  Duxbury. — Death  of  Captain  Standish. — His  De- 
scendants.— Memorials. — Last  of  the  Pilgrims 27 £ 

Yin. 

LADY  ARABELLA  JOHNSON. 

A  Contrast. — Sherwood  Forest. — Lincoln  Family. — Home. — A 
Pious  Mother. — Death  of  the  Earl. — Person  and  Character  of 


CONTENTS.  Xl 

PAGB. 

Arabella. — Mr.  Johnson. — Marriage. — The  Pilgrims. — Devo- 
tion of  a  "Wife. — Preparations  for  Emigration. — Feast. — Em- 
barkation.—  Salem. — A  Primitive  Feast. —  Disappointment 
Consoled. — Dark  Prospects. — Illness  of  Lady  Arabella. — Iler 
Death. — Mr.  Johnson's  Grief. — Death  and  Burial. — ^A  Colony 
in  Mourning. — Spirit  of  the  Pilgrims 204 


JOHN    ELIOT. 

•^Apostle  of  the  Indians." — Birth. — Education. — Emigration. — 
An  Infant  Colony. — Eliot's  Marriage. — Temperate  Habits. — 
Ludicrous  Legislation. — ^Anecdote. — Eliot  in  Trouble. — "Wo- 
man's Rights. — First  American  Book. — Diffusion  of  Chris- 
tianity.— Indian  Language. — Castle-building. — Preaching  in 
the  "Wilderness. — Effect. — A  Christian  Village. — "Praying 
Indians." — Shrewd  Questions. — A  Powaw. — Eliot's  Industry. 
— Jehu. — A  Tradition. — Civilized  Indians. —  Natick. —  The 
Old  Dispensation  Revived. — An  Angel. — Indian  Testament 
— Difficulties. — A  Striking  Illustration. — Forest  Travels. — 
Indian  Students.— Trial  of  Faith.— Old  Age.— Eliot  a  Re- 
former.— A  Beautiful  Picture. — Death 321 


X. 

WILLIAM    PENN". 

Pe<inwood  and  its  Occupants. — Birth  and  Childhood  of  Penn. 
— Anecdotes. — Education. — A  Quaker  Preacher. — Penn  Ex- 
pelled from  College. — Family  Scenes. — Trip  to  Paris. — Penu's 
Accomplishments. — ^The  Quakers. — The  Admiral's  Temper. — 
A  Noble  Mother. — Penn  in  the  Tower. — His  Second  Arrest. — 
Trial  and  Imprisonment. — Persecuted  Jurymen. — The  Admi- 
ral's Chagrin.- Death.— Penn's  Rank  and  Wealth.— Its  Em- 
ployment. — Gulielma. —  Marriage. — Occupations. — His  Tour 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

PAGF4 
through  Holland  and  Gerniany. — Princess  of  the  Rhine. — 

Graef  of  Falchensteyn. —  Rtturn  to  England. —  Interview 
with  King  Charles. — The  Welshman. — Pennsylvania. — Emi- 
gration.— Scenery  of  the  Delaware. — Indian  Reception. — 
"Father  Onas"  and  the  Famous  Treaty. — Memorials. — A 
Forest  Mansion. — "City  of  Brotherly  Love." — Penn  in  the 
English  Court. — In  Prison. — Accumulation  of  Trouble. — 
Death  of  Gulielma. — Marriage. — Czar  of  Muscovy. — Penn 
and  his  Family  in  America. — Reception  of  "Father  Onas." — 
rilavery. — Penn's  Farewell. — Fleet  Prison. — Old  Age. — Death. 
A  Contrast. — ^An  Eulogy. . , 368 


pistol) crcrs  iinir  Jpioiitu's  oi  %mna. 


-w- 


I. 

COLUMBUS. 

Upon  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  and  at  tlie 
base  of  the  Appenines,  rises  the  city  of  Genoa.  It 
sweeps  in  a  semi-circle  over  an  extent  of  four  leagues, 
is  encompassed  by  a  double  range  of  fortifications, 
and  throws  its  arms — two  gigantic  moles  —  far  out 
upon  the  bay  which  it  overlooks.  A  lighthouse  of 
immense  proportions  towers  up  from  a  steep  rock  at 
the  extremity  of  one  of  them. 

The  high,  narrow  streets,  and  the  ingenious  culti- 
vation of  gardens  and  groves  upon  the  housetops,  to- 
gether with  the  simplicity  of  life  and  independence 
of  opinion  prevalent  among  the  inhabitants,  is  all 
that  now  distinguishes  it  from  the  other  palaced  cities 
of  Italy  ;  though  in  power  and  activity  of  commerce 
it  formerly  rivaled  Yenice.     This  city  of  Genoa,  in 


14  DISCOVEREIiS    AND    PIONi:::     .    OF    AMERICA. 

the  days  of  its  commercial  vigor,  was  the  birth-p.aco 
of  Columbus. 

Domenico  Columbo,  a  poor  Genoese  wool-comber, 
and  his  wife,  Susannah  Fontanarossa,  were  the  pa- 
rents of  the  illustrious  Columbo,  who  was  born  about 
the  year  1435.  He  was  the  oldest  of  four  children. 
Eartholomew  and  Giacomo,  his  two  brothers,  appear 
in  history,  but  of  his  one  sister,  little  or  nothing  is 
known. 

Although  restricted  to  narrow  means,  his  parents 
succeeded  in  providing  him  at  an  early  age  with 
sources  of  knowledge  that  quickly  developed  his 
youthful  genius.  His  father,  perceiving  the  readi- 
ness with  which  he  applied  himself  to  his  studies,  and 
noting  his  fondness  for  geography  and  whatever  per- 
tained to  a  sea-faring  life,  determined,  with  good  sense 
not  to  make  a  wool-comber  of  Columbus,  notwith- 
standing his  ancestors  for  several  generations  had 
adhered  to  the  trade.  To  afford  him  an  education 
suitable  to  a  maritime  life,  he  sent  him  to  the  Uni- 
versity of  Pavia ;  but  Columbus  remained  there  only 
long  enough  to  acquire  the  rudiments  of  history  and 
science. 

Pavia,  "  the  city  of  a  hundred  towers,"  is  an  inland 
town,  distinguished  for  its  Universities.  Its  dis- 
tance from  the  sea-board,  and  its  overflow  of  learned 
professors  instead  of  mariners,  may  have  repulsed 
Columbus.  Accustomed  to  a  home  between  the 
mountains  and  the  sea,  where  he  could  look  far  off 
upon  the  waters  that  had  an  indefinable  mystery  and 


'^  COLUMBUS.  15 

attraction  for  him,  and  having  roved  freely  among 
the  crowded  shipping  in  the  harbor,  learned  to  trim 
and  shift  the  sails  or  climb  the  ropes,  and  daily  hear- 
ing the  exciting  accounts  of  newly-discovered  lands, 
or  perilous  adventures  of  the  sailors,  his  ardent  imagi- 
nation received  a  check  in  abandoning  all  this  and 
adopting  a  university  life  between  stone  walls,  and  a 
weary  plodding  among  books  that  his  boyish  ardor 
and  impatience  to  begin  a  nautical  life,  could  not  en- 
dure. Whether  influenced  by  such  reasons,  or  in  con- 
sequence of  his  father's  inability  to  support  him,  he 
remained  but  a  short  time  at  Pavia. 

Thrown  upon  his  own  resources,  Columbus  began, 
at  fourteen,  the  career  which  was  to  win  for  him  im- 
mortal fame.  Though  poor  and  obscure,  he  was  rich 
in  energy,  perseverance,  and  a  lofty,  noble  spirit,  and 
no  doubt  had  already  acquired  a  valuable  store  of 
knowledge  in  regard  to  his  favorite  pursuit,  ^ince 
from  childhood  his  mind  had  been  wholly  absorbed 
in  it.  It  is  supposed  that,  soon  after  leaving  the  uni- 
versity, he  accompanied  a  distant  relative,  named 
Columbo,  upon  his  adventurous  voyages.  Columbo 
was  an  old  and  experienced  captain,  somewhat  dis- 
tinguished for  his  bravery,  and  much  more  for  his 
warlike  and  wandering  propensities,  being  "  always 
ready  to  undertake  the  settlement  of  his  neighbor's 
quarrels," 

The  first  voyage  of  Columbus  mentioned  in  the  an- 
cient chronicles,  was  made  in  1459,  with  this  veteran, 
weather-beaten  captain,  in  an  expedition  under  the 


16  DISCOVERERS    AND    PI0XEEE3    OF    A]MER1CA. 

colors  of  Anjou,  against  ^Naples.  The  struggle  con- 
tinued four  years,  during  Avliich  Columbus  was  at  one 
time  appointed  to  a  separate  command  and  sent  on  a 
hazardous  enterjDrise  to  the  port  of  Tunis.  The  har- 
diliood  and  resolution  he  exhibited  promised  his 
future  greatness.  Some  of  the  years  succeeding  this 
expedition  were  spent,  so  far  as  can  be  ascertained, 
in  voyaging  with  a  nephew  of  the  old  captain,  so 
famous  as  a  corsair  that  his  very  name  was  a  terror. 
Piracy  was  then  a  profession.  The  Mediterranean 
was  a  vast  battle-plain  ;  not  even  a  merchant  ship  ex- 
pected to  cross  it  without  an  engagement.  The  lim- 
ited space  to  which  navigation  was  confined,  was  a 
highway  of  desperadoes  and  brave  adventurers,  who 
sought  distinction  in  war,  discovery,  crime,  or  pious 
expeditions. 

The  Portuguese,  during  these  years,  had  outvied 
every  other  nation  in  the  enterprise  and  spirit  with 
which  they  prosecuted  discoveries.  Under  the  gui- 
dance of  Prince  Henry,  the  African  coast  was  ex- 
plored, and  Cape  Bajador  doubled  —  events  which 
did  much  towards  divesting  the  mariners  of  the  su- 
perstitions which  prevented  them  from  cruising  out 
of  sight  of  land-marks.  Before  this,  it  had  been  their 
firm  belief  that  whoever  passed  Cape  Bajador  would 
never  return.  The  fame  of  these  daring  enterprises 
rang  through  the  world  and  gave  rise  to  the  most  ex- 
travagant hopes.  Pumors  of  beautiful  islands  far  out 
at  sea,  the  revived  opinions  and  fancies  of  the  ancients, 
and  stories  of  a  golden  land,  excited  the  imaginationa 


COLUilBUS.  '         17 

of  voyagers,  tUl,  in  every  cloud  that  hovered  in  the 
horizon,  they  beheld  an  island  or  the  shores  of  the 
famed  Cipango.  Mariners  flocked  to  a  country  whose 
prince  devoted  himself  to  the  maritime  arts,  and  wil- 
lingly manned  the  ships  that  floated  in  scores  from 
the  shores  of  Portugal,  in  search  of  new  and  strange 
regions.  With  the  rest  went  Columbus,  not  driven 
there  by  shipwreck,  as  related  by  historians,  but,  ac- 
cording to  the  researches  of  Irving,  attracted  by  the 
spirit  of  enterprise  shown  by  a  generous  prince. 

Columbus  arrived  in  Portugal  about  the  year  1470, 
and  in  the  full  vio;or  of  manhood.  He  is  described 
as  being  "  tall,  well-formed  and  muscular,  and  of  an 
elevated  and  dignified  demeanor.  His  visage  was 
long,  and  neither  full  nor  meagre  ;  his  complexion 
fair  and  freckled  and  inclined  to  ruddy ;  his  nose 
aquiline,  his  cheek  bones  were  rather  high,  his  eyes 
light  grey  and  apt  to  enkindle ;  his  whole  counte- 
nance had  an  air  of  authority.  His  hair,  in  his  youth- 
ful days,  was  of  a  light  color,  but  care  and  trouble 
soon  turned  it  grey,  and  at  thirty  years  of  age  it  was 
quite  white." 

Tlius  we  see  Columbus  treading  the  narrow,  tor- 
tuous streets  of  Lisbon,  engaging  in  courteous  but 
grave  converse  with  strangers,  eloquently  arguing 
with  his  fellow-mariners,  as  if  inspired,  or  kneeling  in 
the  cathedral  and  worshiping  God  with  a  pious  and 
solemn  enthusiasm  that  entered  into  all  the  acts  of 
his  life.     The  chapel  of  the  Convent  of  All  Saints  was 

2 


18  DISCOVERERS    AXD    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

his  cliief  resort ;  there  lie  met  Dona  Felij)a,  a  lady  of 
rank,  but  without  fortune,  who  resided  in  the  convent. 
Their  frequent  meetings  in  the  chapel  resulted  in  a 
mutual  attachment  and  marriage,  and  the  home  of 
the  bride's  mother  became  theirs.  Her  deceased 
father  had  been  governor  of  the  island  of  Porto  Santo, 
and  was  highly  distinguished  as  a  navigator.  All  his 
charts,  maps,  and  journals,  the  result  of  his  frequent 
voyages  and  long  experience,  were  placed  in  the 
hands  of  Columbus  —  a  valuable  acquisition,  as  he 
thus  became  master  of  a  complete  account  of  all  the 
Portuguese  discoveries.  His  magnanimity  of  spirit 
and  gentle  courtesy  won  the  confidence  of  his  mother- 
in-law  ;  she  appreciated  his  enthusiasm  and  progres- 
sive mind,  and  willingly  conceded  to  him  the  wealth 
of  her  husband's  manuscript  stores,  together  with  all 
she  could  relate  of  his  voyages. 

He  frequently  sailed  in  expeditions  to  the  coast  of 
Africa.  "While  thus  traversing  the  seas,  he  revolved 
and  diligently  studied  the  various  theories  of  the 
learned  of  ancient,  as  well  as  of  his  own,  times.  His 
genius  grasped  the  most  enlightened  views ;  he  be- 
came impatient  at  the  close  and  timid  explorations  to 
which  he  was  confined.  He  looked  longingly  at  the 
vast  and  unknown  expanse  of  the  Atlantic,  and  v/ould 
already  have  swept  boldly  over  it  and  plunged  fear- 
lessly into  its  distant  mysteries,  could  he  have  manned 
his  pioneering  vessel.  The  ocean  was  still  regard- 
ed with  fear  and  superstition ;   the  masses  yet  be- 


COLUMBUS.  19 

lieved  that  only  fire  and  demons,  and  overwhelming 
surges  forever  and  frightfully  boiling,  existed  beyond 
the  visible  horizon. 

The  impulse  which  the  enlightened  Prince  Henry 
had  given  to  discovery,  gradually  subsided  after  his 
death.  During  the  reign  of  Alphonso,  the  wars  with 
Spain  absorbed  the  enthusiasm  and  enterprise  of  the 
nation.  Columbus  was  alone  in  the  vast  dreams  his 
giant  mind  revolved  during  the  years  that  followed. 
He  never  lost  sight  of  his  one  fixed  purpose.  He 
studied  the  lore  of  the  past,  he  speculated  and  ex- 
plored, and  he  finally  ventured  beyond  the  beaten 
track,  sailed  over  the  northern  seas  and  touched  upon 
the  coast  of  Iceland.  This  served  to  strengthen  and 
confirm  his  views,  which  each  day  unfolded  more 
clearly.  From  the  chaos  of  superstition,  of  rumor 
and  imperfect  science,  he  drew  forth  a  theory  that 
stamped  him  a  crazed  enthusiast  in  the  eyes  of  hia 
cotemporaries.  He  believed  that  the  earth  is  a  ter- 
raqueous globe,  and  that  by  saiKng  to  the  west  ho 
would  reach  the  extremity  of  Asia,  or  some  interven- 
ing land,  which  would  prove  to  be  the  famed  Cipan- 
go,  or  Mangi,  the  country  of  the  fabled  Khan  and  his 
magnificent  empire. 

Having  arrived  at  this  conviction,  he  was  firm  as  a 
rock.  ]^either  the  laugh  nor  jeers  of  the  crowd,  nor 
the  ridicule  of  men  of  science,  could  move  him  one 
jot  from  his  strong  position.  His  spirit  was  too  lofty 
and  too  deeply  imbued  with  religious  fervor,  his  pur- 
pose too  grand,  to  be  cried  down  by  taunts  or  unbe- 


20  DISCOYEEERS    AXD   PIOXEEKS    OF   AMERICA. 

lief.  He  already  descried  the  'New  "World,  and  be- 
held in  himself  its  honored  herald  ;  he  found  his 
intended  discoveries  darkly  foretold  by  the  inspired 
writers,  and  he  pondered  upon  the  supposed  prophe- 
cies, till  he  regarded  himself  with  a  respect  that  im- 
parted imposing  dignity  and  loftiness  to  his  demeanor. 
He  did  not  desire  a  private  expedition.  He  wished 
the  preparations  and  rewarding  dignities  to  be  on  an 
equal  scale  with  his  design  —  such  as  kings  alone 
could  undertake.  Years  passed,  therefore,  before 
propitious  events  opened  the  way. 

Upon  the  accession  of  John  H.  to  the  throne  of 
Portugal,  a  new  impetus  was  given  to  discovery. 
Eager  to  prosecute  Prince  Henry's  design  of  find- 
ing a  new  route  to  India,  and  sharing  the  advan- 
tages of  eastern  commerce,  now  monopolized  by  Italy, 
he  assembled  the  most  learned  men  in  the  kingdom, 
to  devise  some  means  by  which  navigation  could  have 
a  wider  scope.  The  application  of  the  quadrant  to 
navigation  was  the  result.  This  promise  of  an  ocean 
guide,  which  would  lessen  the  fears  of  mariners  ven 
turing  upon  unknown  waters,  inspired  Columbus 
with  new  hopes.  He  immediately  sought  an  audi- 
ence with  the  king. 

John  H.  generously  encouraged  nautical  enterprise, 
and  was  therefore  a  ready  listener  to  the  views  and 
plans  of  a  man  already  noted  as  a  navigator,  and 
famous  for  his  singular  enthusiasm.  Struck  with  his 
bold  ideas,  his  calm  conviction,  and  the  accordance 
with  his  own  liberal  views,  he  referred  the  matter  to 


OOLUMBUS.  22 

It  select  council  of  scientific  men.     Tliej  quickly  re- 
jected it  as  absuixl  and  visionary.     Dissatisfied  with 
this  decision,  the  king  conferred  with  an  assemblao-e 
of  men  of  the  deepest  research  and  learning  in  the 
kingdom.     Influenced  by  the  opposition  of  the  nar- 
row-minded Cazadilla,  the  Bishop  of  Cueva,  and  fear- 
ful of  drawing  upon  themselves  the  ridicule  of  all  the 
world,  they,  too,  condemned  tlie  plans  of  Columbus 
as  extravagant.     Still  there  were  those  in  the  assem- 
bly who  were  unwilling  to  lose  an  oj^portunity  that 
might  redound  to  the  fame  of  Portugal.     They  wil- 
lingly acceeded  to  a  wily  scheme  of  Bishop  Cazadilla, 
and,  upon  a  pretense  of  further  deliberation,  obtained 
from  Columbus  the  charts  upon  which  was  traced  the 
proposed  route.     A  small  vessel  was  secretly  fitted 
out  and  sent  upon  the  voyage,  with  the  intention  to 
forestall  the  great  suggester,  or,  in  case  of  failure, 
to  escape  the  odium  and  ridicule  they  feared  to  brave 
in  an  open  expedition,  that  would  at  once  be  pro- 
nounced chimerical  by  the  world.     After  a  few  days' 
cruise  to  the  westward,  the  caravel  returned  to  Lis- 
bon, its  crew  frightened  at  the  wondrous  expanse  of 
ocean  and  the  stormy  waves  that  threatened  to  sink 
them.     They  covered  their  cowardice  by  ridiculing 
Columbus. 

All  this  time  Columbus  was  waiting  in  painful  sus- 
pense for  the  final  decision  of  the  learned  council. 
Koble,  free,  and  high-minded  himself,  he  had  no  sus- 
picion of  the  deception  being  practiced  upon  him. 
When  the   vessel  arrived,  and   a  burst  of  derision 


22  DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

storming  upon  him  from  every  quarter,  gave  him  the 
first  intimation  of  the  duplicity  of  those  in  whom  he 
had  confided,  he  turned  from  them  with  a  deep  and 
bitter  indignation  that  would  brook  no  apology.  The 
king  still  regarded  his  project  with  favor,  but  the 
more  than  kingly  Columbus  scornfully  rejected  an- 
other conference,  and,  taking  with  him  his  young  son, 
Diego,  turned  his  back  upon  Portugal. 

His  wife  was  no  longer  living,  and  her  small  inher- 
itance had  been  gradually  expended.  He  found  him- 
self almost  beggared,  a  homeless  wanderer,  a  despised 
adventurer.  From  the  court  of  Lisbon  to  his  native 
Genoa,  from  Genoa  to  the  royalty  of  Yenice,  he  pain- 
fully journeyed,  everywhere  meeting  rebuff's  and 
smiles  of  commiseration.  The  white-haired  man, 
leading  the  little  child,  was  pointed  out  with  wonder 
at  his  strange  theories,  admiration  of  his  loftly  bear- 
ing, and  pity  for  his  wasted  genius.  He  bore  it  all 
In  silence,  and  still,  with  undaunted  courage,  traveled 
on.  He  defied  the  combined  wisdom  of  the  world, 
he  fearlessly  faced  poverty,  and  his  soul  rose  above 
those  who  harshly  wounded  him. 

At  length,  he  induced  his  brother,  Bartholomew, 
to  sail  for  England,  and  lay  his  plans  before  Henry 
YIL,  while  he  himself  left  for  Spain,  after  visiting  his 
father  and  assisting  him  with  his  scanty  means.  He 
arrived  at  Palos  and  set  out  on  foot  to  visit  his  wife's 
sister,  no  doubt  with  the  intention  of  lea^dng  with  her 
the  young  Diego,  whom  he  still  led  on  his  slow  and 
painful  journeys.     The  first  day  of  his  humble  trav- 


COLUMBUS.  23 

els  in  Spain,  lie  arrived,  weary  and  disheartened,  be 
fore  tlie  gate  of  a  convent  belonging  to  Franciscan 
friars,  known  then,  and  now,  as  the  Coavent  of  La  Eab- 
ida.  It  stood  upon  a  solitary  height  overlooking  the 
sea  coast,  and  was  partially  shaded  by  a  grove  of 
pines.  Attracted  by  the  cool  and  grateful  shade,  and 
hoping  to  obtain  a  crust  of  bread  and  some  water  for 
his  hungry  child,  he  knocked  at  the  gate. 

The  guardian  of  the  convent,  Juan  Peres,  happen- 
ing to  perceive  the  stranger,  was  struck  with  his  no- 
ble countenance,  and  immediately  entered  into  con- 
versation with  him.  He  became  deeply  interested 
in  Columbus,  detained  him  as  his  guest,  and  listened 
with  lively  sympathy  to  his  hopes  and  his  long-frus- 
trated plans.  Father  Peres  was  an  enlightened,  intel- 
ligent man,  and  somewhat  skilled  in  nautical  lore  ; 
ho  comprehended  the  vast  project  thus  laid  before 
him,  and,  full  of  lively  interest  in  the  newly-unfold- 
ed theory,  he  sent  for  the  physician  of  Palos,  a  man 
versed  in  science,  to  converse  with  him.  Gradually, 
one  and  another  of  the  old  mariners  of  Palos  gathered 
to  listen  and  wonder  at  the  strange  proposals.  The 
friars  in  their  dark  cowls,  the  weather-beaten  pilots, 
and  veteran  captains  of  Palos,  were  grouped  about 
Columbus,  within  the  convent  walls,  while  he  elo- 
quently poured  forth  his  convictions,  every  feature  in 
his  face  glowing  with  high  enthusiasm.  They  caught 
his  fervor,  asserted  their  belief  in  his  theory,  and  re- 
lated all  in  their  own  experience  that  would  support 
his  views.     Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon,  a  captain  of  Intel • 


24  DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

ligence,  energy,  strong  resolution,  generous  senti- 
ments, and  tlie  possessor  of  wealth  and  influence, 
boldly  approved  tlie  enterprise  of  Columbus,  and 
pledged  bis  purse  and  person  to  bis  service. 

In  tbe  exhilaration  and  excitement  that  prevailed 
in  tbe  convent  councils,  plans  were  speedily  formed 
and  put  into  execution.  The  guardian  undertook  the 
charge  and  education  of  the  youthful  Diego,  and  tbe 
generous  Pinzon  furnished  Columbus  with  means  to 
repair  to  the  court  of  Ferdinand,  to  obtain  the  coun- 
tenance and  assistance  of  the  crown.  Furnished  with 
letters  to  Talavera,  the  queen's  confessor,  Columbus 
set  out  with  a  glad  heart,  encouraged  and  grateful  to 
God,  whose  providence  had  led  him  to  the  solitary 
and  hospitable  La  Kabida. 

The  court  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  had  lately  as- 
sembled at  Cordova,  and  thither  Columbus  directed 
nis  steps.  Upon  his  arrival,  he  found  the  city  a 
scene  of  active  preparations  for  war.  The  streets 
were  gay  with  magnificently  equipped  cavaliers  and 
their  long  retinues  ;  the  court  was  crowded  with  val- 
iant warriors  and  grandees  of  Spain,  who  had  already 
won  distinction  in  the  Moorish  wars.  Preparations 
were  being  made  on  a  grand  scale  for  a  new  cam- 
paign against  Grenada.  All  the  dignitaries  of  Spain 
—  the  archbishop,  the  grand  cardinal,  even  Talavera, 
the  counselor  and  confessor  of  the  queen,  were  equally 
absorbed  in  the  one  theme  of  the  holy  war.  How 
was  the  poor  obscure  Columbus  to  be  heard  in  the 
midst  of  busy  politicians  and  the  accumulated  dig- 


COLUMBUS.  2 


K 


•nUj,  pomposity  and  bigotry  of  learned  chnrchmeD, 
and  where  tlie  din  of  approaching  war  devoured  every 
other  interest  ? 

It  was  impossible  to  obtain  an  audience  of  the 
sovereigns,  already  overwhelmed  with  pressing  de- 
mands. He  could  but  quietly  deliver  his  letter  to 
Talavera  and  briefly  state  his  plans,  which  were  at 
once  regarded  as  extravagant  and  impossible,  by  the 
haughty  and  bigoted  man  who,  to  the  end,  stood  cold 
and  impervious  as  a  rock,  between  Columbus  and  the 
King,  whose  aid  he  sought.  Before  anything  had  been 
effected  towards  an  interview,  Ferdinand  had  depart- 
ed with  his  splendid  army  for  the  Moorish  dominions. 
Columbus  remained  unheeded  in  Cordova,  unable  to 
;ain  access  to  the  queen,  who,  with  the  administra- 
tion of  two  governments  to  conduct,  had  no  leisure 
to  receive  one  whose  powers  and  whose  projects  were 
disparaged  by  her  most  reliable  adviser. 

Although  disappointed  and  disheartened,  Columbus 
schooled  his  impatience  and  prepared  slower,  but 
more  effective,  means,  to  accomplish  his  purpose. 
He  earned  a  scanty  support  by  making  maps  and 
charts,  and  seized  upon  every  opportunity  to  commu- 
nicate with  the  influential  and  powerful.  Whoever 
listened  to  his  eloquent  discourse  was  struck  with  the 
force  of  his  reasoning,  the  dignity  of  his  demeanor, 
and  the  nobility  of  his  countenance,  though  the  su- 
percilious and  the  ignorant  derided  his  attempts  to 
gain  the  cooperation  of  kings.  "He  would  seek  the 
rcyal  presence,"  said  they,  noting  his  honaely  garb 

B 


26  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

and  remembering  liis  humble  birth,  as  they  pointed 
him  out  with  scorn.  Years  afterwards,  thej  would 
have  gloried  in  a  single  glance  from  his  calm,  pene- 
trating eye. 

The  summer  and  autumn  of  14:86  wore  away  pain- 
fully to  one  whose  every  hour  was  precious,  and  upon 
whose  life  depended  the  immediate  loss  or  gain  of  a 
continent.  With  the  wonderful  perseverance  and  un- 
tiring assiduity  for  which  he  was  so  remarkable,  he 
succeeded  during  those  months  in  gaining  the  atten- 
tion of  a  few  men  of  intelligence,  who  became  hi& 
warm  advocates.  Alonzo  de  Quintanilla,  comptroller 
of  the  finances  of  Castile,  and  the  brothers  Geraldini^ 
one  of  them  the  pope's  nuncio,  the  other  a  preceptor 
to  the  children  of  the  sovereigns,  rendered  him  kind 
and  important  assistance. 

After  a  successful  and  brilliant  campaign,  Ferdi- 
nand returned  to  his  own  dominions,  and  the  court 
repaired  to  Salamanca  for  a  winter  residence.  At 
the  head  of  the  dignitaries  of  Spain,  and  foremost 
among  the  king's  counselors,  was  the  grand  cardinal 
Mendoza,  a  man  of  fine  abilities,  strong  mind  and 
quick  perceptions.  Next  to  the  sovereigns,  he  was 
the  most  important  personage  in  Spain.  To  him,  Co- 
lumbus was  presented  by  his  newly-found  friends. 
The  cardinal  listened  with  surprise  and  profound  at- 
tention to  the  clear  exposition  of  his  novel,  yet  simple, 
theory.  His  able  and  comprehensive  mind  apprecia- 
ted the  whole  at  a  glance ;  he  gave  his  decisive  ap- 
proval, promptly  recommended  the  project  to  the  uo- 


COLUMBUS.  27 

tice  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and  obtained  their 
consent  to  an  audience. 

Again  Columbus  stood  in  tlie  royal  presence,  not 
as  a  crouching  supplicant  of  favor — nor  with  the  bold 
front  of  an  impudent  adventurer ;  he,  the  poor  Gen- 
oese, came  to  offer  the  gift  of  an  explored  ocean  and 
a  New  World,  and,  with  such  a  gift  in  his  hand,  he 
felt  as  kingly  as  the  monarch  before  whom  he  proudly 
stood.  The  unassumed  simplicity  and  grandeur  of  his 
mien  were  the  outward  manifestations  of  a  lofty  spirit, 
which  the  most  envious  courtier  might  in  vain  at- 
tempt to  imitate.  He  felt  himself  "animated  as  if 
by  a  sacred  fire  from  above,"  as  he  afterwards  as- 
serted, yet  he  spoke  with  a  calm  self-possession  thai 
carried  conviction  with  his  words. 

The  cautious  and  subtle  Ferdinand  readily  appre- 
ciated the  character  of  Columbus,  and  perceived  that 
his  project  was  based  upon  scientific  grounds  ;  he  was 
ambitious  to  rival  the  Portuguese  in  discoveries,  and 
secure  to  his  kingdom  the  glory  and  the  wealth  prom- 
ised by  such  an  acquisition,  yet  he  was  too  wary  and 
prudent  of  his  fame  to  venture  it  in  an  uncertain  en- 
terprise. He  decided  to  refer  the  matter  to  a  scien- 
tific body.  Talavera,  who  heartily  despised  the  inno- 
vations which  the  unlearned  son  of  a  wool-comber 
would  presume  to  make  in  the  long-established  theo- 
ries of  wise  men,  was  obliged,  nevertheless,  to  assem- 
ble the  ablest  astronomers  and  cosmographers  in  the 
kingdom,  to  deliberate  upon  the  matter. 

The  council  met  at  Salamanca,  in  the  convent  of 


28  DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

St.  Stephen,  where  Columbus  was  sumptuously  en- 
tertained. He  now  regarded  the  fulfillment  of  his 
hopes  as  beyond  a  doubt,  since  he  was  to  appear  be- 
fore a  body  of  enlightened  men  who  could  readily 
comprehend  his  theory.  Professors  of  the  aniversity, 
grave  functionaries  of  the  church,  and  learned  monks 
who  had  devoted  their  whole  lives  to  erudition,  were 
gathered  in  the  convent  hall  to  listen  to  the  eloquent 
appeals,  and  judge  the  cause  of  a  man,  against  whom 
almost  every  one  was  prejudiced.  They  stubbornly 
entrenched  themselves  behind  arguments  as  pompous 
and  dark  as  the  stately  and  sombre  robes  in  which 
they  were  enveloped.  The  unostentatious  mariner 
and  his  clear,  simple  statements,  were  looked  upon 
with  disdain. 

"  Is  there  any  one  so  foolish,"  was  quoted  by  one, 
from  a  sage,  "  as  to  believe  that  there  are  antipodes 
with  their  feet  opposite  to  ours;  people  who  walk 
with  th(iir  heels  upward  and  their  heads  hanging 
down  ?  That  there  is  a  part  of  the  world  in  which  all 
things  are  topsy-turvy ;  where  the  trees  grow  with 
their  branches  downward,  and  where  it  rains,  hails, 
and  snows  upward  ?  "  Others  solemnly  asserted  that 
to  acknowledge  the  existence  of  land  on  the  other 
side  of  the  globe,  would  be  to  reject  the  Bible,  since 
in  that  case  there  must  have  been  another  parent  to 
the  human  race  than  Adam,  as  it  was  impossible  for 
men  to  have  crossed  the  ocean. 

To  these  objections  Columbus  replied  in  a  strain  of 
impassioned  vehemence  and   strong  argument,  that 


COLUMBUS.  29 

won  over  several  of  the  most  intelligent  and  powerfui 
in  the  assembly.  His  whole  soul  was  engaged  in  the 
huge  task  of  wielding  that  mass  of  bigotry  and  pre- 
judice ;  the  great  object  and  aim  of  his  whole  life 
was  involved  in  the  exciting  struggle.  But,  day  after 
day  was  occupied  in  tantalizing  debate,  till  the  months 
wore  away,  and  the  interest  and  enthusiasm  of  all 
were  drawn  from  Columbus  and  his  startling  schemes 
to  the  preparations  for  a  new  campaign  against  the 
Moors,  in  which  all  were  eager  to  join  from  motives 
of  piety,  and  for  the  opportunities  it  offered  for  roman- 
tic adventure  or  military  prowess.  Talavera,  to 
whose  direction  the  council  had  been  consigned,  ta- 
king no  interest  in  the  proceedings,  left  Cordova  with 
the  court ;  his  departure  ended  the  sittings  of  the 
learned  body,  and  Columbus  was  again  abandoned 
to  his  own  great  dreams. 

During  the  four  following  years,  he  was  attached 
to  the  royal  suite  in  an  humble  capacity  ;  his  claims 
were  occasionally  noticed,  but  the  assemblies  con- 
vened  for  the  purpose,  invariably  lost  the  time  in  ad- 
vancing absurd  objections,  then  dispersed  at  the  sig- 
nal for  a  new  campaign,  without  deigning  a  reply  to 
the  impatient  applicant.  Tormented  with  this  pain- 
ful suspense,  he  mingled  in  silence  with  the  crowd 
which  pressed  through  the  streets  of  the  royal  cities, 
sat  broodins:  and  unheeded  in  the  antechambers  of 
the  palaces,  or,  following  the  court  to  Grenada,  looked 
with  melancholy  disdain  upon  the  long  lines  of  bril- 
liantly equipped  troops,  as  they  marched  to  battle,  or 


30  DISC0VERSS3   A2fD   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

filed  through  the  gates  of  conquered  cities  with  tri- 
umphant banners.  Goaded  at  last  to  desperation,  by 
the  continued  trifling  with  his  long-revolved  project, 
he  demanded  an  immediate  veY>\y  from  the  conference, 
again  upon  the  point  of  dispersing. 

The  entire  enterprise  was  finally  rejected  as  vision- 
ary and  unbecoming  to  the  dignity  of  a  prince  —  a 
decision  which  Ferdinand  softened  by  assuring  Co- 
lumbus it  should  be  reconsidered  at  the  close  of  the 
war.  Indignant  and  grieved,  he  left  Seville,  and  de- 
termined to  seek  the  patronage  of  other  courts 
^Wearied,  discouraged,  and  reduced  to  extreme  pov- 
erty, he  arrived  at  the  convent  of  La  Rabida,  after 
nearly  six  years  of  intolerable  anxiety,  and  the  final 
rejection  of  tlie  splendid  gift  he  would  have  laid  at 
the  feet  of  his  sovereigns.  Yet  he  never,  for  a  mo- 
ment, thought  of  abandoning  a  project  that  was  thus 
rudely  bufi'eted  and  banded  from  one  court  to  an- 
other. His  wonderful  perseverance  was  but  tasked 
to  greater  effort. 

Juan  Peres,  the  guardian  of  the  convent,  was  as- 
tonished and  exasperated  at  tlie  result  of  the  aj^plica- 
tion.  He  had  formerly  been  confessor  to  tlie  queen  ; 
with  this  advantage,  he  penned  a  letter  of  expostula- 
tion to  the  monarchs,  and  despatched  it  by  a  w^orthy 
friar,  who  discharged  his  commission  so  promptly 
that,  in  fourteen  days,  he  returned  with  a  royal  letter 
and  message  demanding  the  presence  of  Juan  Peres. 
Unwilling  to  lose  a  moment,  he  set  out  at  midnight 
for  the  Spanish  camp,  at  Santa  Fe.     Arrived  at  the 


COLUMBUS  31 

scene  of  war,  he  was  conducted  to  tlie  presence  oi  Is- 
abella, whom  he  addressed  witli  a  daring  zeal  that  at 
once  enlisted  her  interest  and  sympathy.  He  was 
rewarded  by  her  sumnions  for  Cohimbus,  and  the  gift 
of  a  purse  to  provide  the  habiliments  necessary  to  his 
appearance  in  the  presence  of  royalty. 

Overjoyed  at  the  prospect  of  success,  Columbus 
hastened  to  obey  the  command.  Ke  arrived  at  the 
camp  in  time  to  witness  the  surrender  of  Grenada, 
and  the  mournful  departure  of  the  last  of  the  Moorish 
kings.  It  was  a  propitious  moment ;  the  monarchs 
were  elated  with  success,  and  prepared  to  listen  en- 
couragingly to  new  plans.  ]^obles  and  grandees, 
wreathed  with  fresh  laurels,  fair  senoras  of  distin- 
guished birth,  honoring,  in  gala  dress,  the  late  crown- 
ing victory  of  the  Spanish  arms  ;  stately  archbishops, 
cardinals  and  priests,  exulting  over  the  downfall  of 
the  crescent,  and,  elevated  above  them  all,  the  revered 
sovereigns,  of  more  imposing  j)resence  than  ever,  and 
now  thrice  crowned  —  altogether  composed  an  assem- 
blage that,  without  overawing,  inspired  Columbus 
with  rare  and  majestic  eloquence.  He  felt  that  his 
destiny  and  the  fate  of  an  undiscovered  world  hung 
upon  his  words.  His  benignant  face  beamed  with 
the  intensity  of  his  enthusiasm  ;  his  form  dilated  and 
towered  with  the  vastness  of  his  expanded  soul,  while 
he  pictured  the  magnificent  realms  he  should  add  to 
their  conquest,  and  the  converts  that  would  be  made 
among  heathen  hosts  who  peopled  the  unknown  re- 
gions in  barbaric  splendor. 


32  DISCO VEREKS    A2^u   JtlONEEBS    OF    AMERICA. 

The  last  suggestion  touclied  the  tender  heart  of 
Isabella  far  more  than  the  grandeur  he  depicted. 
"Whispers  of  incredulity  or  derision  went  from  lip  to 
lip  among  those  who,  for  tlie  first  time,  beheld  the 
famous  navigator ;  while  hope  and  anxiety  were 
plainly  visible  upon  the  countenances  of  those  who 
appreciated  and  approved  the  disputed  claims.  Fer- 
dinand looked  coldly  upon  the  audacity  of  the  inno- 
vator who  demanded  "  for  himself  and  heirs,  the  title 
and  authority  of  Admiral  and  Yiceroy  over  all  lands 
discovered  by  him,  with  one  tenth  of  the  profits." 

The  haughty  Talavera,  now  elevated  to  the  arch- 
bishopric of  Grenada,  came  again  like  a  dark  shadow 
between  Columbus  and  the  object  almost  within  his 
grasp.  He  pompously  assured  the  king  that  such  terms 
"savored  of  the  highest  degree  of  arrogance,  and 
would  be  unbecoming  in  their  highnesses  to  grant  to 
a  needy,  foreign  adventurer."  What  bitter  words  to 
the  j)i'oud  claimant!  Ferdinand  endeavored  to  per- 
suade him  to  relinquish  his  ambitious  terms.  His 
dignity  would  not  yield  this ;  the  imperious  Ferdi- 
nand and  the  princely-minded  supplicant  were  equal- 
ly firm.  The  interview  ended,  and  Columbus  quickly 
passed  out,  despising  the  throng  who  gloried  over  the 
acquisition  of  a  petty  kingdom  and  blindly  rejected 
the  vast  domains  he  could  give  them.  Indignant  and 
angry,  he  disregarded  the  expostulations  of  the  friends 
who  gathered  about  him,  mounted  his  mule  and  rode 
away  from  the  scenes  of  martial  triumph. 

Pained   at  the  rejection   of  his  enterprise,   those 


COLUMBUS.  33 

friends  souglit  tlie  queen.  Alonzo  de  Quintanilla  and 
St.  Angel,  his  warmest  advocates,  boldlj  reproaclied 
Isabella  for  hesitating  to  undertake  a  cause  in  which 
little  could  be  lost,  while  the  gain  might  be  incalcu- 
lable. Yielding  to  her  own  generous  impulses,  and 
acting  with  the  decision  and  spirit  which  had  never 
allowed  the  interests  of  the  united  kingdoms  to 
clash,  she  exclaimed,  "  I  undertake  the  enterprise  for 
mj  own  crown  of  Castile,  and  will  pledge  mj  jewels 
to  raise  the  necessary  funds." 

A  courier  was  hastily  despatched  for  Columbus ; 
he  had  crossed  the  rich  Yega,  in  the  midst  of  which 
stood  the  Moorish  capital,  and  was  passing  over  the 
bridge  of  Pinos,  when  he  was  overtaken.  He  refused 
to  return,  for  he  had  no  faith  in  Ferdinand.  Assured 
the  message  w^as  from  the  queen  herself,  he  joyfully 
turned  back,  for  he  knew  her  word  was  a  sacred 
pledge  that  had  never  been  broken.  Isabella  re- 
ceived him  graciously,  promptly  acceded  to  his  terms, 
directed  the  immediate  preparation  of  two  ships,  a 
third  being  provided  by  Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon  and 
Juan  Peres,  of  La  Pabida.  She  then,  with  Ferdi- 
nand, signed  the  capitulations  which  were  concluded 
the  17th  of  April,  1492. 

The  port  of  Palos  in  Andalusia  was  selected  by  the 
queen  for  the  fitting  out  of  the  armament,  because  the 
inhabitants  were  under  penalty,  for  some  misdemean- 
or, to  serve  the  crown  for  one  year  with  two  armed 
caravels.  By  a  royal  mandate,  they  were  obliged  to 
prepare  and  man  them  within  ^en  days,  for  Columbus 

B*  3 


34:  DISC0VEREK3    AND    I'lONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

The  decree  set  all  Palos  in  commotion.  The  most  of 
the  inhabitants  were  horror-struck  at  the  thought  of 
venturing  into  regions  long  invested  with  supernatu- 
ral terrors.  Even  the  oldest  mariners,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  those  who  at  first  had  gathered  about  Co- 
lumbus, shook  their  heads  and  shrugged  their  shoul- 
ders at  the  fearful  enterj)rise.  They  might  approve 
the  theory,  but  it  was  a  very  difierent  matter  to  test 
it  personally.  After  great  difficulty,  a  crew  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty,  from  various  ports  of  Spain,  was 
pressed  into  the  service,  and  the  little  fleet  was  ^ready 
for  sea  on  the  3rd  of  August. 

•Dejected  by  the  prospect  of  near  approaching 
death,  the  motley  crew  went  in  procession  to  the 
church  of  Palos,  confessed  and  received  the  blessing 
of  the  revered  Father  Peres,  returned  to  the  ships, 
unfurled  the  sails  and  floated  away  over  the  vast 
waste  of  waters  from  which  few  of  them  ever  ex- 
pected to  return.  Tlie  friends  who  watched  the  van- 
ishing sails  from  the  shore,  wept  in  unconsolable 
grief  for  those  they  deemed  lost,  or  about  to  undergo 
terrors,  the  more  fearful  because  mysterious. 

Three  weeks  elapsed  before  the  three  barks  out- 
Bailed  the  last  point  of  land,  owing  to  a  delay  at  the 
Canary  islands.  When  the  sailors  beheld  the  heights 
of  Ferro  gradually  fade  from  their  sight,  and  saw 
nothing  but  the  wide  rolling  ocean  wherever  they 
turned,  fear  overcame  them  and  they  burst  into  tears 
and  loud  lamentations.  Columbus  had  new  and  un- 
foreseen difficulties  to  contend  with,  throughout  the 


COLUMBUS.  3 


K 


voyage  —  the  continued  danger  of  insubcrdination 
among  the  undisciplined  crews  which  had  no  sympa- 
thy in,  or  appreciation  of,  his  great  object ;  the  start/- 
ling  variation  of  the  needle  for  wdiich  he  could  not 
account  satisfactorily  to  himself;  and  the  extent  of 
ocean  which  greatly  exceeded  the  computation  of  the 
most  able  cosmographers.  The  last  perplexity,  he 
concealed  from  the  officers  and  crew,  lest  their  fears 
should  defeat  his  continued  progress. 

The  daily  look-out  for  land  caused  intense  and  in- 
creasing excitement.  Often  startled  with  the  hope- 
ful cry  of  "  land  ho !  "  and  as  often  sinking  back  into 
disappointment  and  fear,  the  men  at  last  grew  despe- 
rate and  would  hear  no  more  of  their  commander's 
oft-repeated  assurances  of  a  speedy  possession  of 
splendid  countries  and  immense  riches.  They  gath- 
ered in  knots  and  planned  his  destruction,  if  he  did 
not  conduct  them  to  tey^ra  fir7nawhhm  a  certain  num- 
ber of  days.  Columbus  maintained,  in  their  pres- 
ence, a  self-possessed,  commanding,  fearless  demean- 
or, and  a  clear,  serene  countenance  that  still  held  them 
in  awe ;  but  when  alone  in  his  long  night-watches,  he 
gazed  intently  and  anxiously  along  the  dusky  horizon, 
to  catch  the  faintest  promise  of  land. 

At  length,  one  evening,  he  caught  the  glimmering 
of  a  flitting  light,  as  if  one  went  to  anu  fro,  or  was 
rocked  upon  the  waves.  Believiug  it  to  be  the  indi- 
cations of  inhabited  land,  he  remained  on  a  keen 
watch  through  the  night.  At  two  in  the  morning, 
the   tJirilliup'   -•— "••^    ^^  "    '^^^    ^♦'atp    thp  T*infr    ^n 


36  DISCOVEliEKS   AND    I'lONKEUS    OF   AilERICA. 

nouuced  the  joyful  news  of  land.  Thejcast  anchor, 
and  impatiently  waited  for  the  dawn  to  reveal  what 
was  before  them.  Doubtless,  Columbus  expected  to 
behold  the  rich  shore  of  the  eagerly  sought  India,  or 
the  perfumed  groves  and  gilded  cities  of  the  famed 
Cipango. 

As  the  shadows  of  night  were  slowly  lifted  from 
the  dark  mass  that  had  loomed  up  through  long,  tan- 
talizing hours,  they  looked  with  wonder  upon  the 
shores  of  a  beautiful  island,  covered  with  a  luxuriant 
growth  of  trees  and  fresh  verdure  that  extended  to 
the  beach.  Human  beings  of  neither  giant  growth  nor 
dwarfish  proportions,  emerged  from  the  woods  in 
every  quarter,  and  seemed  lost  in  astonishment  at 
the  approach  of  white-winged  monsters,  which  they 
believed  had  been  w^afted  from  heaven  upon  the 
clouds. 

Columbus  immediately  ordered  a  boat  to  be  low- 
ered, and,  richly  attired  in  scarlet  and  gold  lace,  de- 
scended to  the  boat,  bearing  a  banner  emblazoned 
with  a  cross,  tw^o  crowns  and  the  initials  of  the  Span- 
ish monarchs.  Upon  reaching  the  shore,  the  admiral 
and  his  companions  prostrated  themselves  and  kissed 
the  earth,  uttering  transports  of  joy  and  giving  thanks 
to  God  in  tears.  Columbus  then  unfurled  his  stand- 
ard, solemnly  took  possession  of  the  island  in  the 
name  of  his  sovereigns,  and  demanded  the  oath  of 
obedience  to  himself  as  viceroy,  from  his  followers. 
They  crow^ded  about  him,  knelt  at  his  feet,  kissed  and 
embracer)   him  with  rpvc^-ence  and  admiration^  and 


COLUMBUS.  37 

entreated  favor  of  him  as  if  they  beheld  in  him  a 
princely  conqueror. 

The  natives  timidly  approached,  touched  their  gar- 
ments with  curiosity,  and  noted  the  fair  skins  and  tlie 
long  beards  of  the  new  comers,  with  amazement. 
They  recognized  the  superiority  of  Columbus  in  the 
devotion  of  his  companions,  and  were  won  by  the 
benignity  with  which  he  submitted  to  their  scrutiny. 
The  Spaniards,  in  their  tm-n,  beheld  with  wonder  a 
race  widely  differing  from  any  in  the  known  world. 
Finely  proportioned,  naked,  of  copper-colored  skin, 
with  straight  black  hair  flowing  upon  their  shoulders, 
speaking  an  unknown  tongue,  simple  and  harmless  in 
their  manners  —  they  were  objects  of  intense  interest 
and  speculation  to  the  discoverer.  Thus  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  Old  and  the  E'ew  World  met  for  the  firs 
time,  after  centuries  of  mysterious  separation. 

The  island  was  named  St.  Salvador  ;  and  as  it  gave 
no  proof  of  the  rich,  populous  cities  the  admiral  had 
expected  to  find,  and  as  the  natives  pointed  to  the 
south  as  being  a  golden  region,  he  spread  sails  again 
to  seek  the  country  of  the  Grand  Khan,  in  the  exis- 
tence of  which  he  confidently  believed.  All  that  the 
natives  had  told  him  by  signs,  he  interpreted  in  ac- 
cordance wdth  his  hopes. 

For  wrecks  they  cruised  among  the  islands  that,  on 
every  hand,  rose  from  the  sea.  Full  of  enthusiasm, 
they  regarded  everything  in  the  most  favorable  light, 
and  were  enraptured  with  the  soft  climate,  the  luxu- 
rious vegetation  of  the  islands  and  the  hospitality  of 


38  DISCOVEltEKS    AA^D    PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

the  Indians.  At  Hispaniola,  while  at  anchor  in  the 
Bay  of  Acril,  the  ship  under  the  command  of  Colum- 
bus, was  drifted  to  the  shore  through  the  carelessness 
of  the  helmsman  ;  the  keel  struck  deep  into  the  sands 
and  the  caravel  was  soon  an  irreparable  wreck. 
Alarmed  at  the  loss  of  his  vessel  and  grieved  by  the 
late  desertion  of  Pinzon  and  his  crew,  Columbus  re- 
solved to  return  immediately  to  Spain.  A  few  of 
his  men,  attracted  by  the  easy,  indolent  life  of  the 
natives,  and  pleased  with  the  gracious  and  prince-like 
majesty  of  the  ruling  cacique,  and  his  generosity  to- 
wards them,  decided  to  remain  among  this  newly 
discovered  race.  The  w^recked  ship  afforded  them 
materials  and  arms  for  a  fortress,  which  they  speedily 
built.  The  rest,  with  Columbus,  returned  to  the  re- 
maining caravel. .  Longing  to  extend  his  discoveries, 
yet  feeling  that  the  success  of  the  expedition  now  de- 
pended upon  the  safe  voyage  of  one  fragile  bark, 
he  turned  from  the  enticing  hope  of  greater  discover- 
ies and  directed  the  single  prow  homeward. 

A  few  days  after  leaving  La  ITavidad  and  while 
still  beating  along  the  coast,  a  shout  from  the  mast 
head  announced  the  joyful  news  of  a  sail  standing  to- 
wards them.  It  proved  to  be  the  Pinta.  Pinzon  en- 
deavored to  palliate  his  desertion  by  various  excuses, 
to  which  Columbus  listened  without  reply.  Four 
Indian  men  and  two  girls,  to  be  sold  in  Spain,  had 
been  taken  captive  during  his  independent  cruising, 
and  a  large  quantity  of  gold  had  been  secured.  Co- 
lumbus immediately  restored  the  wronged  natives  to 


COLUMBUS. 


30 


their  island,  notwithstanding  the  angiy  opposition  of 
Pinzon.    Four  yonng  Indians,  however,  were  received 
as  i^uides  to  the  Caribbean  Islands  —  a  proposed  ex- 
tension of  the  voyage  that  was  afterwards  abandoned. 
Their  sails  were  now  gladly  spread  for  Spain  ;  but, 
when   fai   out    upon    the  Atlantic,  a   terrific   storm 
threatened  the  destruction  of  both  tlie  frail  vessels, 
iU-titted  to  outride  a  tempest.     For  days,  they  were 
oblio-ed  to  scud  under  bare  poles,  while,  every  mo- 
ment,  the  frightened  sailors  believed  they  should  be 
buried  beneath,  the  overwhelming  waves.     The  two 
vessels  kept  within  sight,  until,  during  a  night  of  fear- 
ful danger,  they  w^ere  separated.     Morning  dawned 
upon  a  waste  of  broken,  foaming  waves  ;  the  Pinta 
was  no  where  visible.     The  sailors  of  the  Kina  were 
maddened  with  terror  at  the  disappearance  of  their 
companions  ;    left  alone  upon  the  vast  waters,  which 
vvere  lashed  into  fury  by  the  gale,  their  old  supersti- 
:ions  returned  ;  they  trembled  with  the  fear  of  being 
h:ept  forever  in  the  midst  of  the  stormy  waste,  and 
cursed  the  hour  in  which  they  had  embarked  in  the 
enterprise.     These  repinings  added  to  the  anxiety  and 
distress  that  already  depressed  their  commander.    The 
whole  success  of  his  life-long  pursuit  depended  upon 
the  fate  of  the  half-wrecked  bark  that  remained  to 
him.     If  it  was  lost,  the  knowledge  and  record  of  his 
triumph  would  be  buried  with  it ;  the  New  World 
might  remain  unknown  for  ages,  and  his  own  name, 
despoiled  of  its  glory,  be  the  distinction  only  of  a 
chimerical  adventurer. 


40  DISCOYERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

Harassed  witli  these  fears,  lie  prepared  two  concise 
accounts  of  tiis  discoveries  upon  parchment,  encased 
them  in  waxed  cloth  within  cakes  of  wax,  and  en- 
closed them  in  casks  ;  one,  he  threw  into  the  sea  ;  the 
other  was  placed  upon  the  poop  of  the  vessel,  with 
the  hope  of  its  floating  off  in  case  of  the  destruction 
of  the  caravel.  But  at  the  close  of  the  same  day 
upon  which  these  precautions  were  taken,  the  dark 
clouds  broke  into  fleecy  groups,  the  waves  were  but 
lightly  crested,  and  a  clear  light  gleamed  in  the  west. 
The  following  morning,  shouts  of  joy  resounded 
through  the  ship,  as  the  clear,  sunny  atmosphere  re 
vealed  land  ;  the  shores  of  the  Old  World  v^ere  greet- 
ed  with  almost  as  deep,  heart-felt  enthusiasm  as  had 
filled  all  eyes  with  tears  on  approaching  land,  after 
a  long  wandering  in  the  unknown  seas  of  the  New 
World. 

As  if  Columbus  had  not  yet  been  sufficiently  tried 
by  a  multiplicity  of  troubles  and  delays,  a  new  de- 
tention still  withheld  from  him  the  glory  and  the  tri- 
umphant vindication  of  his  theory,  which  he  eagerly 
awaited.  Upon  arriving  at  the  Azores,  he  sent  part 
of  his  crew  on  shore  at  St.  Mary's  to  fulfill  a  vow  that 
had  been  made  during  the  tempest,  namely,  to  send 
a  procession,  bare-footed,  to  oficr  thanksgiving  in 
some  church  dedicated  to  the  Yirgin.  "While  pray- 
ing in  the  island  chapel,  they  were  arrested  by  order 
of  the  king  of  Portugal, —  an  act  instigated  entirely 
by  jealousy.  Columbus  not  having  been  secured 
as  was  the  intention,  the  innocent  sailors  were  re- 


CQLTJ^IBUS.  4j 

leased  after  a  detention  of  three  days,  and  they  a^ain 
set  sail  for  Spain.  After  being  tossed  about  in  a  mer- 
ciless tempest  for  days,  tliey  were  obliged  to  take 
fihelter  in  a  Portuguese  harbor. 

Couriers  were  immediately  despatched  to  the  Span- 
ish sovereigns,  with  the  news  of  his  arrival  and  suc- 
cess. Meanwhile,  crowds  from  Lisbon  daily  visited 
the  ship,  with  its  marvellous  freight  of  productions 
from  the  new  countries.  A  message  from  the  king 
invited  Columbus  to  the  court  at  Valparaiso,  whither 
he  repaired  and  was  received  with  distinctions  grant- 
ed only  to  princes  of  the  royal  blood.  King  John 
was  deeply  grieved  and  mortified  at  having  lost  the 
vast  acquisitions  that  had  been  rejected  with  disdain, 
in  the  person  of  the  great  navigator.  Some  of  the 
courtiers,  envious  and  piqued  at  the  brilliant  achieve- 
ments of  one  who  had  defied  their  learning  and  wis- 
dom, proposed  the  assassination  of  Columbus.  Oth- 
ers suggested  the  secret  fitting  out  of  an  armament 
that  should  proceed,  at  once,  over  the  same  route,  and 
claim  the  forfeited  possessions,  under  cover  of  a  grant 
from  the  Pope,  which  ceded  to  them  a  portion  of  the 
imaginary  India.     The  last  proposition  was  accepted. 

Upon  the  reception  of  letters  from  his  royal  pat- 
rons, Columbus  promptly  sailed  for  Spain,  and  arrived 
safely  at  Palos,  on  the  15th  of  March.  At  the  start- 
ling news  of  the  return  of  the  I^ina,  and  that  it  was 
actually  at  anchor  in  the  harbor,  the  inhabitants  of 
Palos  could  scarcely  express  their  astonishment  and 
joy.     All  business  was  suspended,  the  bolls  pealed 


*t2  DISCOVERERS    AXD    PIONEERS    OF    A3IERICA. 

out  a  noisy  welcome,  and  the  streets  were  nlled 
with  a  multitude,  running  to  and  fro  with  the  ex 
citement  of  the  wonderful  event.  Shouts  and  excla- 
mations rent  the  air,  as  Columbus  and  his  crew  land- 
ed and  proceeded  to  the  Church  to  give  thanks, 
where,  seven  months  before,  they  had  stood  dejected 
and  trembling  with  terror  at  the  plunge  they  were 
about  to  take  into  unknown  regions. 

Columbus,  who  had  departed  amid  the  execrations 
and  jeers  of  the  wise  and  the  learned,  came  now 
overwhelmed  with  honors,  unshared  by  any  other  per- 
son. Pinzon,  who,  by  a  singular  coincidence,  arrived 
at  Palos  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day  with  the  ad 
miral,  was  mortified  and  foiled  in  his  hopes  of  first 
announcing  the  result  of  the  voyage.  He  was  sur- 
prised at  sight  of  the  ISTiiia,  anchored  in  the  same 
port.  He  had  believed  her  lost  at  sea,  and  hastened 
to  receive  honors  he  flattered  himself  were  reserved 
for  him  alone.  Upon  hearing  of  the  enthusiastic  re- 
ception of  his  commander,  he  landed  privately,  and, 
after  the  departure  of  Columbus  for  court,  repaired 
io  his  own  home.  The  subsequent  displeasure  of  the 
sovereigns  at  his  conduct  stung  his  sensitive  soul ; 
humbled  and  crushed  under  a  keen  sense  of  his  dis- 
honor, he  died  a  few  days  after  the  announcement  of 
Lis  disgrace. 

The  arrival  of  Columbus  at  Barcelona  was  like  the 
triamphar.t  entry  of  a  Roman  conqueror.  The  return 
from  a  balloon  voyage  to  the  moon,  at  the  present 
day,  with  specimens  of  its  inhabitants  and  ^vegetation, 


C0LUMB[J3.  43 

could  not  produce  a  greater  commotion  than  did  that 
event  which  crowded  the  streets,  balconies,  and  even 
the  roofs,  of  Barcelona  with  spectators.  Six  Indians, 
whom  Columbus  had  induced  to  accompany  him,  and 
who  were  showily  decorated  with  gold  coronets, 
bracelets,  and  various  ornaments,  headed  the  singular 
procession  ;  it  w\as  with  difficulty  that  it  made  its  way 
through  the  applauding  populace  to  the  square,  wdiere 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella  publicly  awaited  the  ap- 
proach of  the  illustrious  voyager,  beneath  a  canopy 
of  gold  brocade. 

When  Columbus  approached,  escorted  on  either 
hand  by  royal  princes,  tbe  sovereigns  rose  to  receive 
him  as  if  he  had  been  a  monarch  and  a  conqueror. 
He  knelt  before  them,  and  would  have  kissed  their 
hands  in  token  of  vassalage,  had  they  permitted  it ; 
but  they  raised  him,  and,  with  a  graciousness  that  was 
unheard  of  in  a  court  remarkable  for  its  punctilious 
etiquette,  seated  him  beside  them.  This  was  the 
proudest  moment  of  his  life.  His  age,  his  w^hite 
locks,  the  beaming  benignity  of  his  countenance  and 
the  majesty  of  his  carriage,  were  in  keeping  with  the 
dignity  and  grandeur  of  the  enterprise  he  had  hero- 
ically accomplished. 

This  triumph  was  enhanced  by  the  hard,  life-long 
battle  through  which  he  had  attained  victory.  He 
had  combated  tlie  accumulated  science  of  ages ;  he 
had  fought  the  bigotry  and  pedantry  of  churchmen, 
and  the  superstition  of  the  masses  ;  defied  the  expe- 
rience of  veteran  mariners,  struggled  with  poverty, 


4:4  DISCOVEEEKS    AND    PIONEEES    OF    AMERICA. 

journeyed  with  unconquerable  perseverance  from 
court  to  court,  and,  at  last,  in  three  little  ships,  that 
were  but  toys  for  the  rude  waves  to  toss  about,  he 
had  battled  the  elements,  subdued  his  rebellious  crew, 
sternly  and  daringly  ploughed  through  the  unknown 
deep,  and  grasped  the  reality  that,  from  his  youth,  had 
floated  before  his  vision  like  a  phantom. 

Proud  Castilian  nobles,  warriors  famed  for  their 
knightly  prowess  in  the  victories  of  Grenada,  arch- 
bishops and  cardinals — the  same  who  had  haughtily 
brushed  by  the  poor  applicant  a  year  before,  now 
sank  in  insignificance  before  the  immortalized  man, 
upon  whom  all  eyes  turned  with  wonder,  almost  with 
adoration.  After  Columbus  had  communicated  the 
most  important  events  of  his  voyage  to  the  monarchs, 
they  fell  upon  their  knees  and  gave  thanks  to  God  ; 
an  act  which  was  imitated  by  the  vast  multitude.  In 
the  midst  of  the  prevailing  solemnities,  the  notes  of 
the  Te  Deum  arose  softly,  and  swelled  into  grand 
rolling  tones  that  quelled  the  murmurs  of  many  voi- 
ces into  a  hush  of  attention.  The  effect  of  the  scene 
upon  Columbus  was  such  that  he  solemnly  vowed  to 
devote  a  large  proportion  of  his  anticipated  wealth  to 
the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  from  the  infidels. 
This  visionary  project  of  a  splendid  crusade  was  his 
favorite  theme,  and  an  object  for  which  he  provided 
in  his  will — a  fact  that  sufiiciently  indicates  the  pious 
enthusiasm  of  his  character,  and  his  freedom  from 
mere  mercenary  views. 

'During  the  six  months  of  preparation  for  ^  second 


colu:m33us.  45 

voyage,  the  glories  of  the  Kew  World,  its  golden  riv- 
ers, its  spicy  groves,  its  exuberant  verdure  and  de- 
licious climate,  were  discussed  with  vivacious  ardor, 
by  all  Spain.  Tlie  Indies  were  seen  through  a  golden 
vail  that  imparted  a  bewitching  brilliancy  and  ro- 
mance to  its  distant  shores.  The  heroic  and  the  am- 
bitious, who  longed  for  chivalric  achievements,  like 
those  which  had  distinguished  the  Moorish  war,  ea* 
gerly  rushed  into  the  newly-opened  channel  of  enter- 
prise. The  fleet  of  seventeen  ships,  destined  for  the 
voyage,  were  soon  crowded  with  the  noblest  hidalgos 
of  Spain,  and  a  promiscuous  throng  in  quest  of  fame 
and  gold.  Such  was  the  infatuation  of  the  Spaniards, 
that  many  who  were  refused  participation  in  the  al- 
ready over-crowded  expedition,  went  on  board  by 
atealth,  and  concealed  themselves  till  the  ships  were 
9ut  at  sea.  Thus,  with  wild  hopes  and  buoyant  spir- 
its, they  bade  adieu  to  European  lands,  little  dream- 
ing of  the  stern  toil  and  the  bitter  disappointments 
that  awaited  them  on  transatlantic  shores. 

A  voyage  of  two  months  brought  them  to  Hispan- 
iola,  where  some  of  the  companions  of  the  former 
voyage  had  remained  in  the  hastily-built  fortress  of 
La  ]N'avidad.  The  ships  anchored  in  the  bay  at  eve- 
ning, and  the  crews  impatiently  awaited  daybreak,  to 
greet  the  men  who  had  been  left  in  the  wilderness. 
Columbus  felt  serious  apprehension  lest  some  evil  had 
befallen  them,  since  no  reply  had  been  given  to  the 
signal-guns  fired  upon  their  arrival.  JSTo  light,  no 
Bounds  of  life,  were  recognized  in  the  profound  still- 


46  DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

ness  that  ominously  rested  upon  the  neighboring 
shore,  till,  out  of  the  darkness,  two  or  three  boats, 
filled  with  Indians,  shot  over  the  water  and  ap- 
proached the  ships.  The  Indians  could  not  be  per- 
suaded to  go  on  board  until  Columbus  presented  him- 
self, with  a  light  that  enabled  them  to  scan  his 
features.  They  readily  recognized  the  venerable 
form  and  countenance  of  the  admiral,  and  no  longer 
hesitated  to  trust  themselves  to  the  formidable  Span 
iards. 

From  them  the  fate  of  the  little  colony  was  ascer- 
tained. They  related  that  Caonabo,  a  fierce  cacique, 
known  to  the  Spaniards  as  the  lord  of  the  Golden 
House,  had  come  down  from  his  dominions  in  the 
golden  mountains  of  Cibao,  attacked  and  burned  the 
village  of  the  peaceful  Guacanagari,  destroyed  the 
fortress  and  massacred  the  Spaniards  who  had  quar- 
reled among  themselves,  and  had  neglected  needful 
caution. 

Pained  at  the  mournful  fate  of  the  garrison,  Colum- 
bus abandoned  his  design  of  establishing  a  colony 
there,  and  selected  a  more  favoiable  site.  A  harbor, 
sheltered  upon  one  side  by  rocks,  and  by  a  forest  on 
the  other,  and  having  a  finely  watered  plain  in  the  vi- 
cinity, was  decided  upon.  The  projected  city  was 
named  Isabella,  and  its  erection  immediately  com- 
menced. Stores,  ammunition,  arms,  and  live  stock, 
had  been  abundantly  provided,  and  were  promptly 
disembarked.  The  work  at  first  proceeded  Avith  zest, 
but  the  effects  of  unaccustomed  labor  and  a  new  cli* 


COLUMBUS.  '  47 

mate^  were  soon  visible,  especially  among  the  young 
cavaliers,  who  were  sorely  chagrined  at  finding  the 
necessity  of  severe  bodily  exertion,  when  they  had 
anticipated  nothing  but  delightful  roamings  in  para- 
disiacal regions,  and  the  easy  acquisition  of  gold  that 
was  somehow  to  fall  into  their  hands  at  every  turn. 

The  prevailing  gloom  and  despondency  of  mind 
aggravated  diseases,  which  rapidly  thinned  out  their 
numbers.  Oppressed  by  these  unhappy  results,  over- 
come with  fatigue,  and  disappointed  in  not  finding 
a  store  of  gold  at  La  Kavidad,  with  which  to  freight 
the  returning  ships,  Columbus  himself  became  se- 
verely ill ;  but  he  shortly  rallied  and  tasked  his  ener- 
getic mind  to  the  utmost  to  provide  freight  for  the 
waiting  vessels,  in  keeping  with  the  enticing  accounts 
he  had  repeatedly  given.  Though  his  golden  dreams 
daily  eluded  his  grasp,  he  was  always  buoyed  with 
the  certainty  of  finding  the  rich  country  of  the  Grand 
Khan,  which  was,  to  the  last,  the  object  of  his  unti- 
ring search. 

Eager  to  realize  the  expectations  of  his  sovereigns, 
of  rich  returns,  and  to  sustain  the  reputation  of  his 
discoveries,  he  proposed  an  expedition  to  the  moun- 
tains of  Cibao,  in  search  of  gold.  Alonzo  de  Ojeda 
was  selected  for  the  leader.  lie  was  a  young  cava- 
lier of  dark  and  handsome  countenance,  fine  propor- 
tions, and  was  remarkable  for  his  strength  and  agil- 
ity. Irving  further  describes  him  as  "  bold  of  heart, 
free  of  spirit,  open  of  hand ;  fierce  in  fight,  quick  in 
brawl,  but  ready  to  forgive  and  prone  to  forget  an 


4:8  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

injury."  Ho  was  well  fitted  for  the  adventurous  ex- 
pedition committed  to  him,  and  from  which  he  re- 
turned with  glowing  descriptions  of  the  golden  riches 
of  the  powerful  Caonabo's  possessions. 

Elated  by  these  reports,  Columbus  immediately 
despatched  twelve  of  the  ships,  with  specimens  of 
gold  found  in  the  mountains,  unknown  fruits  and 
plants,  and  a  number  of  Carib  captives,  to  be  educa- 
ted for  interpreters,  and  to  aid  in  the  conversion  of 
their  race.  Being  fully  aware  of  the  ^great  discrep- 
ancy between  the  outlays  and  the  returns  of  the  ex- 
pedition, he  proposed  a  source  of  revenue  to  his 
sovereigns  that  leaves  an  inefi'aceable  blot  upon  his 
name.  It  was  the  enslavement  of  the  Carib  race  — 
a  suggestion  which  he  justified  by  the  hope  of  their 
civilization  and  eventual  conversion  to  the  true  faith. 
Isabella's  humanity  and  sense  of  justice  at  once  re- 
jected the  scheme. 

In  order  to  divert  the  colonists  from  their  discontent, 
and  to  search  for  the  expected  gold,  a  party  of  well- 
armed  men  prepared  for  battle,  labor,  or  mining, 
and  headed  by  the  admiral,  set  out  to  explore  the  in- 
terior of  Hispaniola.  After  crossing  a  plain  and  ar 
riving  at  the  summit  of  a  mountain  pass,  they  beheld 
a  luxurious  plain  extended  beneath  them,  occasion- 
ally intersected  by  magnificent  forests  of  gigantic 
mahogany  trees  and  spreading  palms,  brightened  by 
countless  streams,  and  dotted  with  Indian  hamlets, 
from  which  the  inhabitants  poured  forth  in  dismay 
at  the  sound  of  drums  and  trumpets,  and  the  sight  of 


COLUMBUS.  49 

men  clad  in  sliininpj  steel,  and  mounted  upon  animals 
that  seemed  to  tliem  one  with  their  riders.  In  their 
simplicity,  they  regarded  the  Spaniards  as  children 
of  Heaven,  and  eagerly  laid  at  their  feet  all  the  gifts 
they  had  to  bestow.     Gold  was  brought  in  abundance. 

The  little  army  continued  their  march  for  several 
days,  till  they  reached  the  mountain  barriers  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  plain.  A  fortress  was  erected  in 
the  most  suitable  place  for  mining,  but  the  results 
were  meagre,  as  the  miners  were  continually  enticed 
by  the  Indians  to  wander  hither  and  thither  in  search 
of  more  promising  regions,  which  were  always  upon 
the  banks  of  some  remote  stream,  in  the  depths  of  an 
intricate  forest,  or  hidden  among  the  unattainable 
mountain  heights. 

Upon  returning  to  the  settlement  of  Isabella,  Co- 
lumbus found  the  colonists  in  a  deplorable  state. 
The  heat  of  the  climate,  and  the  humidity  of  the  soil, 
had  induced  illness  or  extreme  debility  among  the 
largest  portion  of  the  settlers  ;  the  growing  scarcity 
of  provisions,  also  promised  a  speedy  famine.  Seek- 
ing the  general  good,  Columbus  promptly  put  the 
whole  colony  on  short  allowance,  constructed  a  mill 
to  grind  corn,  and,  by  compulsory  measures,  obliged 
the  Spanish  cavaliers  to  perform  the  duties  of  the 
common  laborers,  who  were  the  greatest  sufferers  by 
sickness.  These  measures,  so  necessary  to  the  wel 
fare  of  the  whole  colony,  were  regarded  by  the  proud 
and  intolerant  cavaliers  as  the  unjust  impositions  of 
an  upstart  foreigner.     They  formed  the  grounds  of 

C  4 


50  DISCOVEKERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    A»MERICA. 

persecution  and  anathema  that  henceforth  pursued, 
and  jBnallj^  crushed,  the  man  whose  whole  life  seems 
one  continuous  strugs^le  with  the  elements  of  nature 
and  the  prejudice  of  mankind. 

When  tranquillitj  was  in  a  measure  secured  to  the 
colony  of  Isabella,  a  voyage  of  discovery  was  attempt- 
ed in  the  direction  of  Cuba.  Columbus  still  believed 
Cuba  to  be  part  of  the  continent  of  Asia  —  "the  be- 
ginning and  end  of  India."  His  intention  was  to 
have  coasted  the  imagined  continent,  till  he  arrived 
at  regions  belonging  to  the  known  world,  and  thus 
circumnavigate  the  globe,  or  return  to  Spain  by  way 
of  the  Mediterranean.  His  vessels  were  disabled, 
however,  by  cruising  in  the  intricate  channels  that 
abound  along  the  western  coast  of  Cuba ;  and  the 
sailors  were  unwilling  to  advance  farther,  where  they 
might  incur  still  greater  exposure  and  peril  than  they 
had  already  endured,  lie  was  obliged  to  turn  back, 
though  not  until  his  crew  had  signed  a  deposition,  de- 
claring their  belief  that  Cuba  was  part  of  the  conti- 
nent of  Asia.  Two  days'  continuation  of  the  voyage 
would  have  undeceived  them,  but  in  that,  as  in  every 
enterprise  which  Columbus  projected,  he  was  baffled 
by  the  timidity  or  obstinacy  of  those  with  whom  he 
had  to  deal. 

Violent  storms  accompanied  their  return  voyage, 
separating  the  vessels  and  threatening  destruction. 
The  admiral  endured  the  most  painful  anxiety,  day 
and  night,  for  there  was  not  one  in  whom  he  could 
trust,  while  traversing  these  unknown  seas,  where 


COLUMBUS.  O.l 

they  were  contlnnall}^  entangled  among  wild  islo..ids. 
"When  at  last  the  ocean  became  tranquil,  and  tliej 
emero-ed  into  more  familiar  recions,  the  reactit»n  of 
extreme  excitement  and  fatigue  left  Columbus  in  a 
Btate  of  insensibility  that  resembled  the  lethargy  of 
death.  The  alarmed  sailors  spread  the  sails  to  a  fa 
vorable  breeze,  and  bore  their  unconscious  com 
mander  into  the  harbor  of  Isabella. 

There  was  one  at  Isabella  who  eagerly  awaited  his 
arrival.     Bartholomew  Columbus,  his  eldest  brother, 
had  parted  from  him  when  he  had  first  sought  the 
shores  of  Spain,  and  had  been  commissioned  by  him 
to  seek  the  patronage  of  Henry  YII.  of  England.     In 
this,  Bartholomew  had  been  successful,  after  a  cap 
tivity  of  some  years  with  a  roving  corsair.     He  has- 
tened to  Spain  to  announce  the  result,  but,  at  Paris, 
learned  that  the  discovery  had  been  accomplished, 
and  that  his  brother  was  showered  with  honors  at  the 
Spanish  court,  and  was  preparing  a  second  splendid 
expedition.     He  arrived  in  Spain  just  after  the  fleet 
had  sailed,  but,  aided  by  the  monarchs,  fitted  out  a 
vessel  and  spread  his  sails  in  the  wake  of  the  brilliant 
fleet.     The  delay  of  these  preparations,  and  struggles 
with  adverse  winds,  caused  a  late  arrival  at  Isabella; 
he  entered  the  harbor  just  after  the  admiral   had 
sailed  for  Cuba. 

Columbus'  first  consciousness  was  the  presence  of 
this  beloved  brother.  It  inspired  him  with  new  hope 
and  strength.  He  had  been  his  early  companion 
and  the  supporter  of  his  splendid  schemes,  and  ha 


52  DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEEES    OF    AMERICA. 

was  fully  capable  of  relieving  him  now  of  the  intol- 
erable cares  that  oppressed  him  among  strangers  and 
unsjmpatliizing  foreigners.  Bartholomew  was  a  man 
of  powerful,  vigorous  frame  and  commanding  air ;  he 
was  prompt,  firm,  fearless  and  persevering — qualities 
that  well  fitted  him  to  govern  a  turbulent  colony 
He  difi'ered  from  Columbus  in  a  certain  sternness  and 
abruptness  of  manner  which  repelled  rather  than  won ; 
the  penetration  and  sagacity  of  his  intellect  prepared 
him  to  deal  with  men  and  things,  with  an  adroitness 
entirely  at  variance  with  the  admiral's  simplicity  of 
character. 

Columbus  gladly  invested  Bartholomew  with  the 
title  and  authority  of  Adelantado,  which  gave  him 
the  government  of  the  island  —  an  office  that  had 
principally  devolved  upon  Don  Diego,  his  younger 
brother,  who  was  of  too  mild  and  inofi'ensive  a  nature 
to  maintain  an  energetic  and  firm  government.  The 
afi*airs  of  the  colony  had  become  lamentably  disor- 
dered during  the  absence  of  the  admiral.  Complaints 
and  threats  arose  from  every  quarter.  Every  ship 
that  arrived  from  Spain  had  been  sent  back  with 
accounts  of  the  tyranny  and  oppression  of  Columbus, 
and  his  deceitful  representations  of  the  newly  discov- 
ered countries.  These  calumnies,  continually  poured 
into  the  ears  of  the  Spanish  monarchs,  finally  gained 
some  credence,  and  one  Juan  Aguado  was  despatched 
to  ascertain  the  truth  of  these  representations. 

He  arrived  at  Hispaniola  soon  after  the  return  of 
the  admiral,  and  while  the  colonists  were  exasperated 


COLUMBUS.  53 

at  the  appointment  of  another  brother  to  high  office. 
The  haughty  cavaliers  were  indignant  at  the  rule  of 
a  family  of  foreigners,  who  had  sprung  from  poverty 
and  obscurity.  They  bewailed  their  own  fate,  and 
pointed  to  the  graves  of  their  companions,  in  whom 
wounded  pride  and  sullen  despair  had  worked  more 
fatally  than  disease.  Insults  and  accusations  were 
heaped  upon  the  admiral.  Juan  Aguado  prepared  to 
return  to  Spain,  with  an  accumulation  of  grievances, 
that  placed  Columbus  in  the  light  of  an  unpardona- 
ble criminal.  The  serious  aspect  now  given  to  these 
complaints,  decided  the  admiral  at  once  to  present 
himself  at  court  and  vindicate  the  measures  he  had 
adopted. 

The  government  of  the  island,  during  his  absence, 
was  committed  to  Bartholomew,  the  Adelantado.  He 
set  sail  at  the  same  time  with  Aguado,  in  a  separate 
caravel,  containing  a  large  number  of  the  factious 
and  disappointed  colonists.  Thirty  Indians  were  also 
on  board,  who,  after  a  visit  to  Spain,  were  to  be  re- 
turned to  their  native  land.  Among  them  was  the 
famous  Caonabo,  the  monarch  of  the  golden  moun- 
tains of  Cibao,  who,  in  a  battle,  had  been  taken  pris- 
oner by  the  adventurous  Ojeda.  The  wily  stratagem 
by  which  the  royal  captive  had  been  secured,  so  filled 
him  with  admiration  and  respect  for  the  prowess  of 
Ojeda,  that,  although  diminutive  in  height  and  un- 
distinguished in  dress,  Caonabo  invariably  arose  in 
his  presence,  but  obstinately  remained  seated  when 
Columbus,  to  whom  every  one   else  did  obeisance, 


64:  DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

appeared.  Several  fellow-captives  were  offered 
their  liberty ;  but  one,  a  proud,  heroic,  Indian  wo- 
man, tlie  wife  of  a  cacique,  refused  to  go  on  shore, 
having  been  won  by  the  misfortunes  of  the  haughty 
and  valorous  chieftain  whose  fate  she  resolved  to 
share.     Caonabo  died,  however,  on  the  passage. 

On  the  11th  of  June,  1496,  two  caravels  from  the 
"New  World  anchored  in  the  bay  of  Cadiz.  Multi- 
tudes hastened  to  greet  the  adventurers  whose  desti- 
ny they  had  envied,  and  whose  gay  equipments  and 
exultant  looks  had  filled  the  hearts  of  those  obliged 
to  remain,  with  discontent  at  their  exclusion  from  a 
chance  in  the  golden  lottery.  Now  they  beheld,  with 
pity  and  surprise,  a  train  of  pale,  emaciated  wretches, 
just  able  to  drag  themselves  on  shore,  loaded  with 
disease  and  disappointment  instead  of  the  precious 
ore  they  had  expected  to  bear.  Columbus  himself, 
divested  of  the  imposing  habiliments  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  wear,  appeared  in  the  humble  garb  of  a 
Franciscan  monk,  and  with  an  unshaven  beard,  either 
from  a  self-imposed  vow,  or  because  he  felt  himself 
under  the  displeasure  of  his  sovereigns. 

His  reception  by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  was  un- 
expectedly gracious.  No  notice  was  taken  by  them 
of  the  complaints  brought  by  Aguado  ;  they  were  too 
conscious  of  his  great  merits  and  the  difficulties  with 
which  he  had  to  contend,  to  reprimand  his  errors. 
He  was  obliged^  however,  to  linger  in  Spain  nearly 
two  years  before  preparations  were  matured  by  the 
crown  for  a  third  voyage  of  discovery.    The  contest 


COLUMBUS.  55 

£>f  political  stratagem  witli  France,  and  war  with  Italy, 
wholly  absorbed  the  attention  of  Ferdinand,  who,  at 
best,  looked  coldly  upon  Columbus.  Family  alliances 
also  drew  largely  upon  the  interest  and  thoughts  of 
the  sovereigns. 

In  the  spring  of  149S,  a  squadron  of  six  vessels  was 
at  his  service  ;  but  the  reaction  of  the  public  mind  in 
regard  to  the  :N'ew  World,  made  the  difficulty  of  ob- 
taining recruits  for  Ilispaniola  so  great,  that  it  became 
necessary  to  supj^ly  the  deficiency  with  condemned 
criminals.  This  measure  proved  the  destruction  of 
the  colony  of  Isabella,  and  was  a  fruitful  source  of 
trouble  and  vexation  to  the  end  of  Columbus'  life. 

The  result  of  this  voyage  was  the  discovery  of  the 
South  American  continent :  but,  when  the  a^ed  ad- 
miral  beheld  its  shores,  he  did  not  accept  it  as  the 
world   which   had  been  the  object  of  his  life-long 
search.     He  had  a  vague  idea  of  an  infinite  extension 
of  islands  before  him,  deceived  as  he  was  by  the  low, 
wide  plain,  intersected  in  every  direction  by  the  Ori- 
noco.    The  rapid  flow  of  fresh  water  into  the  gulf  of 
Paria,  he  presumed  to  be  from  a  mighty  river  that 
coursed  through  some  continent  yet  far  distant.     Un- 
able to  prosecute  his  discovery,  in  consequence  of  the 
weather-beaten  state  of  his  vessels,  and  his  own  in- 
creasing infirmities,  he  steered  for  Hispaniola,  after 
collecting  various  specimens  from  the  new  region,  in 
which  were  included  pearls  of  large  size  and  great 
beauty,  obtained  from  the  natives.     He  arrived  at  Is- 
abella, emaciated  by  illness,  and  almost  blind  from 


5(3  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

the  long  niglit-watclies  he  always  kept  when  travers- 
ing unknown  seas. 

The  Adelantado  welcomed  him  gladly  ;  for,  during 
the  two  and  a  half  years  of  their  separation,  an  Her- 
culean task  had  fallen  to  his  share.  Under  a  daring 
and  insolent  leader,  the  colonists  were  in  a  state  of 
rebellion  ;  not  more  than  forty  men  remained  loyal 
to  the  Adelantado,  and  even  in  those  he  could  repose 
no  confidence.  The  attempts  of  Columbus  to  restore 
order  resulted  in  his  own  deep  humiliation.  He  was 
obliged  to  accede  to  all  the  terms  proposed  by  the 
rebels ;  granted  them  Indian  slaves,  supplied  them 
with  ships  to  transport  some  of  the  principal  actors 
to  Spain,  provided  them  with  certificates  of  good  con- 
duct, and  permitted  the  worthless  rabble  to  embark 
for  home  in  complete  triumph,  unpunished,  and  rec- 
ommended to  the  sovereigns.  The  admiral,  how- 
ever, privately  despatched  letters  to  his  royal  patrons, 
assuring  them  of  the  true  state,  of  afi*airs,  and  that  the 
capitulations  had  been  compulsory. 

Only  a  few  days  had  elapsed  after  their  departure, 
when  they  all  returned,  actuated  in  part  by  the  severe 
weather  they  had  experienced,  and  much  more,  prob- 
ably, from  fear  to  appear  in  Spain,  after  carrying  out 
such  high-handed  measures.  Columbus  beheld  them 
pouring  in  upon  him  again,  with  a  heavy  heart.  Ho 
was  stung  with  the  insolent,  impudent  mien  which 
they  preserved  ;  he  felt  it  the  more  keenly  because 
of  the  light  in  wdiich  he  regarded  his  own  dignity  of 
BtatioUj  —  expecting,  as  he  did,  the  same  veneration 


COLUMBUS.  5>^ 

from  them,  wliicli  he  felt  for  those  to  whom  he  ac- 
^nowledged  vassahage.  Yet,  each  day,  new  demands 
and  new  concessions  were  repeated.  Large  grants  of 
Land  were  allowed  them  ;  their  leader  was  installed  in 
high  office ;  emboldened  by  their  success,  they  com- 
mitted  lawless  depredations  among  the  natives,  rob- 
bed them  of  their  valuables,  and  carried  oif  the'most 
beautiful  of  the  Indian  maidens. 

In  the  midst  of  these  insubordinate  movements,  a 
letter  arrived  from  Spain  in  reply  to  the  complaints 
and  demands  of  redress,  made  by  Columbus.     It  was 
written  by  the  Bishop  Fonseca,  superintendent  of  In- 
dian affairs,  an  artful,  malignant  enemy  of  the  admiral, 
and  one  who  seized  upon  every  opportunity  to  mis- 
represent him  to  Ferdinand  and  Isabella.     He  curtly 
replied  that  the  alleged  rebellion  could  not  be  inves- 
tigated at  present.     This  disregard  of  the  complaints 
encouraged  the  rebels  to  freer  depredations.     Colum- 
bus would  have  immediately  sailed  for  Spain,  but  it 
was  impossible  while  the  island  continued  in  a  state 
of  revolt.     He  despatched  two  caravels  with  those  of 
the  disaffected  who  chose  to  go,  requested  Ferdinand 
to  send  him  learned  men  to  form  a  council  for  settling 
disputes,  and  requested  that  his  eldest  son,  Diego"^ 
who,  with  his  brother,  had  the  office  of  page  at  cou^'rt,' 
should  be  sent  out  to  assist  him. 

The  ungovernable  ruffians  who  had  thus  been 
shipped  to  Spain,  hastened  to  Grenada,  and,  instiga- 
ted by  the  invidious  Fonseca,  gathered  in  the  court 
of  the  Alhambra  and  sent  up  cries  and  lamentations 


58  DISCOVERERS   AND   PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA. 

against  the  cruelty  of  Columbus.  They  ran  after  the 
king  whenever  he  rode  out,  and  pursued  him  every- 
where with  their  outcries.  Ferdinand,  already  jeal- 
ous of  the  power  with  which  he  had  invested  a  sub- 
ject, over  countries  whose  vastness  he  was  just  be- 
ginning to  appreciate,  was  exasperated  at  the  accounts 
of  the  viceroy's  harsh  proceedings,  verified  in  every 
particular  by  the  false  Fonseca. 

The  sight  of  the  enslaved  Indian  girls,  their  deplo- 
rable ruin  and  lamentations  for  their  wilderness 
homes,  filled  Isabella  with  indignation  and  resent- 
ment. Their  possessors  asserted  that  they  had  been 
freely  bestowed  by  the  admiral.  She  had  been  firmly 
opposed,  from  the  first,  to  the  enslavement  of  the  In- 
dians, had  strictly  prohibited  it,  and,  on  one  occasion, 
shipped  back  a  cargo  of  five  hundred  sent  by  Colum- 
bus, with  assurances  of  her  displeasure.  With  the 
heinous  disregard  of  this  command  before  her  eyes, 
in  an  aggravated  form,  her  humanity,  her  indignation 
and  her  firmness,  equally  actuated  her  to  the  course 
she  instantly  adopted. 

The  slaves  were  ordered  to  be  returned  to  their 
country,  together  with  every  other  Indian  who  was 
wrongfully  retained  in  Spain.  Don  Francisco  de  Bo- 
badilla,  a  man  of  violent  passions  and  ambitious 
character,  was  appointed  to  go  to  Hispaniola,  investi- 
gate the  conduct  of  Columbus,  and,  if  necessary^  su- 
percede him  in  command. 

He  arrived  in  the  harbor  of  Isabella  in  the  autumn 
of  1500.     Without  making  inquiries,  and  prejudiced 


COLUMBUS.  59 

against  the  man  he  came  to  judge,  he  took  advantage 
of  the  admiral's  absence  in  the  interior,  and  controlled 
affairs  according  to  his  own  hasty  view  of  the  mat- 
ter. He  seized  Don  Diego,  and  enchained  and  im- 
prisoned him  without  assigning  a  cause  ;  pardoned 
all  the  rebels,  took  possession  and  disposed  of  Colum- 
bus' residence  and  effects,  as  if  confiscated  to  the 
crown  ;  demanded  the  surrender  of  all  the  fortresses 
and  sent  peremptory  orders  for  the  admiral  to  appear 
before  him. 

When  Columbus  beheld  the  royal  missive,  he  was 
confounded.  Conscious  of  his  own  integrity  and  mo- 
tives, he  obeyed  the  mandate  and  presented  himself 
before  Bobadilla.  He  was  immediately  put  in  irons 
and  confined  in  the  fortress,  amidst  the  shouts  of  the 
populace,  though  not  one  had  dared  to  step  forth  and 
rivet  the  chains  of  him  whose  venerable  presence  and 
magnificent  achievements  could  not  but  strike  them 
with  awe.  He  received  the  indignities  heaped  up- 
on him,  in  silence  —  not  the  silence  of  moroseness 
or  guilt,  but  the  stillness  of  a  noble  soul  wounded 
by  the  ingratitude  and  falsity  of  a  friend.  He  had 
reposed  the  utmost  confidence  in  his  reverenced 
queen.  Her  justice,  her  generosity,  her  magnanim- 
ity, had  been  a  supporting  staff,  upon  which  he  leaned 
with  trust  and  undoubting  reliance,  when  bound  un- 
der an  intolerable  burden  of  care  and  injustice.  That 
she  should  have  failed  him  —  that  the  sovereio-ns,  to 
whom  he  had  given  incalculable  services,  should  thus 
reward  him,  was  a  bitterness  that  made  him  indiffer 


60  DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

ent  and  almost  insensible  to  the  insults  of  the  assu- 
ming Bobadilla  and  the  unprincipled  rabble,  upon 
whom  he  looked  with  mournful  scorn. 

When  he  appeared  upon  the  shores  of  Spain  in 
chains,  a  feeling  of  indignation  sped  like  an  electric 
shock  throughout  the  kingdom.  From  the  chivalric 
noble  to  the  hot-blooded  peasant,  all  felt  a  sense  of 
shame  that  the  honor  of  Spain  was  thus  dimmed  be- 
fore all  the  world.  He  refused  to  have  his  irons  .re- 
moved, proudly  assuring  those  who  interposed,  that 
they  had  been  placed  there  by  the  command  of  his 
sovereigns,  and  by  their  authority  only  they  should 
be  taken  off ;  then,  he  would  preserve  them  as  relics 
and  memorials  of  the  reward  of  his  services. 

Isabella  was  surprised  and  grieved  at  the  severity 
with  which  Bobadilla  had  executed  her  commands  ; 
but  when  convinced  of  the  unjust  treatment  of  Co- 
lumbus, she  made  all  the  reparation  in  her  power, 
provided  him  with  a  rich  equipment,  wrote  lettei-s 
expressing  grief,  and  invited  him  to  court.  The  mag- 
nificent hall  of  the  Alhambra  was  the  scene  of  the 
interview.  Columbus  entered  and  presented  himself 
before  his  sovereigns  and  the  throng  that  surrounded 
them,  still  keenly  feeling  his  injuries,  and  maintaining 
the  dignity  and  silence  under  which  his  sensitive 
spirit  had  taken  shelter.  But  when  he  beheld  tears 
in  the  eyes  of  the  queen,  heard  her  gentle  voice  of 
sympathy  and  regret,  and  received  her  extended  hand, 
the  long  pent-up  emotions  of  his  heart  flooded  forth 
in  uncontrollable  tears.     He  threw  himself  upon  hia 


COLUMBUS.  61 

knees  before  her,  but  he  could  not  speak  a  word  for 
the  violent  sobs  which  choked  his  utterance. 

The  monarchs  raised  him  and  consoled  him  with 
most  gracious  promises.  When  sufficiently  recovered, 
he  vindicated  himself  in  the  most  eloquent  and  touch- 
ing terms.  He  received  assurance  of  their  sincere 
regret,  and  pledges  of  an  immediate  restoration  to 
his  dignities  and  government  —  promises  which  the 
deceitful  and  politic  Ferdinand  never  intended  to  ful- 
fill. Columbus,  nothing  doubting,  expected  to  be 
speedily  reinstated,  but  he  was  doomed  to  disappoint- 
ment that  embittered  and  clouded  the  remainder  of 
his  troubled  life. 

He  remained  nine  months  at  Grenada,  endeavoring 
to  arrange  his  affairs  and  to  obtain  the  action  of  the 
king  upon  the  restoration  of  his  dignities.  His  pa- 
tience at  last  exhausted,  he  turned  his  attention  to  the 
prosecution  of  a  fourth  voyage  in  search  of  an  imagi- 
nary strait  that  would  open  into  the  Indian  sea,  and 
afford  a  new  route  to  oriental  regions.  He  sailed  in 
pursuit  of  this  chimera,  in  the  spring  of  1502,  with 
four  caravels,  accompanied  by  his  brother,  Don  Bar- 
tholomew, and  his  youngest  son,  Fernando.  The  ex- 
pedition was  unsuccessful.  After  coasting  the  east- 
ern shores  of  the  southern  continent  for  some  dis- 
tance, he  was  obliged  to  sail  for  Hispaniola  in  conse- 
quence of  the  shattered  condition  of  his  vessels. 
Storms  and  adverse  winds  had  been  contended  with 
throughout  the  voyage.  His  shipwreck  on  the  coast 
of  Jamaica,  and  detention  at  Hispaniola, —  where  the 


62  DISC0YEEEK6   AND   PIONEEKS   OF   AMERICA. 

wretched  and  oppressive  rule  of  Orvand-o,  the  gov- 
ernor appointed  to  supersede  him,  had  produced  a 
deplorable  state  of  suffering  and  desolation ^  particu- 
larly among  the  Indians, —  prevented  his  return  to 
Spain  till  two  years  more  of  hardship  and  mental 
suffering  were  added  to  the  weight  already  bearing 
him  down  to  the  grave. 

After  twenty  years  of  toil  and  pain,  we  lind  Co- 
lumbus at  Seville,  stripped  of  his  honors,  grown  old 
and  infirm  in  the  service  of  his  king,  yet  unrewarded, 
and  painfully  struggling  with  poverty.  All  the  world 
resounded  with  his  fame  and  envied  his  immortal 
name,  while  he  lay  writhing  with  pain  in  an  obscure 
little  inn,  unattended,  save  by  a  few  of  his  fellow- 
voyagers.  Tormented  by  the  remembrance  of  his 
unrestored  honors,  he  despatched  letter  after  letter  to 
the  ungrateful  Ferdinand,  full  of  entreaties  for  their 
restitution.  He  spurned  the  ofler  of  titles  and  es- 
tates in  Spain,  though  reduced  to  indigence.  He  did 
not  seek  pecuniary  remuneration ;  he  only  demanded 
the  restoration  of  his  official  dignities,  which  he  as- 
sured the  king  concerned  his  honor,  and  which  he  re- 
garded as  the  invaluable  trophies  of  his  achievements. 
These  very  dignities  were  a  stumbling  block  to  the 
jealous  monarch,  who  was  unwilling  to  perpetually 
invest  a  subject  and  his  heirs  with  the  government 
of  countries  of  vast  and  growing  importance.  He 
preferred  the  alternative  of  dissimulation  and  the  vi- 
olation of  his  sealed  promises. 

The  death  of  Isabella,  whose  own  severe  afflictions 


COLUMBLTS.  63 

hdd  m  a  measure  withdrawn  her  attention  from  af- 
tairs  of  sta^o  in  her  later  days,  was  a  severe  stroke  to 
the  hopes  of  Columbus.  He  knew  enough  of  the 
craftj  policy  of  Ferdinand,  to  believe  that,  without 
the  intercession  of  the  beloved  queen,  his  demands  for 
the  fulfillment  of  their  sacred  promise  were  futile 
Yet  lie  made  one,  last,  despairing  effort.  The  inten- 
sity and  eagerness  with  which  he  followed  up  these  de- 
mands of  justice  to  himself  and  his  descendants,  im- 
parted strength  and  energy  to  his  enfeebled  body  and 
mind. 

He  who,  a  few  years  before,  proceeded  to  court  in 
triumph,  attended  by  the  nobility,  renowned  cava- 
liers, and  an  applauding  populace,  now  entered  the 
gates  of  Segovia,  a  poor,  infirm  old  man,  dejected 
and  unnoticed.  The  royal  palace  was  open  to  him, 
but  he  was  received  with  cold,  unmeaning  smiles  by 
the  king,  and  listened,  with  a  sinking  heart,  to  his  eva- 
sive promises.  Again  and  again,  he  sought  the  royal 
audience,  till  the  anxiety,  irritation  and  distress  of 
mind  incident  to  his  prolonged  application,  laid  him 
once  more  upon  a  bed  of  illness  from  which  he  was 
never  to  rise.  His  energy  and  youthful  ardor  rekin- 
dled and  flamed  up  brilliantly  with  his  flickering  life. 
As  if  the  infirmities  of  seventy  years  had  not  bound 
him  hand  and  foot,  he  assured  Philip  and  Joanna, 
the  successors  of  Isabella,  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of 
youth,  that  he  would  "  yet  be  able  to  render  them 
services,  the  like  of  which  had  never  been  wit- 
nessed I  " 


G4:  DISCOVERERS    A.ND    TIONEERS    OF    ^laiERIOA. 

He  expired  ou  the  20tli  of  May,  1506,  a  ♦few  days 
after  liis  brother  Bartholomew  had  been  despatched 
with  the  message  to  the  new  sovereigns.  His  son, 
Diego,  and  a  few  faithful  followers  surrounded  his 
death-bed,  which,  if  rendered  gloomy  by  the  severe 
disappointments  of  his  eartlily  career,  was  illumined 
and  cheered  by  his  child-like  faith  in  God,  to  whoso 
guidance  he  had  always  committed  his  life,  and  to 
whose  mercy  he  unhesitatingly  confided  his  soul  in 
death,  with  the  words,  "Into  thy  hand,  O  Lord,  I 
commend  my  spirit." 

Columbus  was  peculiarly  a  man  of  intuitive  ge- 
nius. He  was  gifted  with  a  brilliant  and  soaring  im- 
agination, that  would  have  stamped  him  a  visionary, 
but  for  a  balancing  penetration  of  mind  and  sound- 
ness of  judgment.  His  inexhaustible  energy  and 
unequalled  perseverance,  enabled  him  to  hold  with 
unflinching  grasp  an  imagined  world,  that  must  have 
eluded  the  clench  of  one  less  firm.  His  whole  life, 
previous  to  the  discovery,  seems  a  stern  preparation 
to  that  end. 

But  his  lively  imagination  and  the  excitement  of 
success,  invested  the  JS'ew  TV^orld  with  fiibulous 
charms  which  stern  experience  rudely  tore  away.  He 
strained  every  nerve  to  sustain  his  first,  magnificent 
representations,  and,  in  the  efi'ort  to  remunerate  the 
monarchs  of  Spain  for  their  repeated  outlays,  com- 
mitted the  error  which  leaves  the  only  blot  upon  his 
memory.  The  enslavement  of  the  Indians,  in  direct 
disobedience  to  the  commands  of  the  humane  Isa- 


COLUMBUS.  6 


bella,  can  scarcely  be  excused  by  the  alleged  hope 
of  then*  conversion,  and  still  less  by  its  being  a  return 
of  expenditures.  Thus,  with  the  first  star  that  light- 
ed the  hidden  world,  came  the  curse  that  with  every 
succeeding  year  takes  a  wider,  surer  sweep  over  a 
fair  continent  which  claims  for  its  emblem  the  God- 
dess of  Liberty. 

His  character  fitted  him  to  become  the  pioneer  of  a 
ITew  "World,  but  not  its  arbitrator.  His  benignity  and 
simplicity  of  heart  were  cakjulated  to  win  favor,  but 
not  to  govern  or  deal  with  the  cunning  and  duplicity 
of  men  ;  the  consciousness  of  his  own  integrity  caused 
him  to  repose  implicit  confidence  in  others.  JSText  to 
the  supreme  God  he  reverenced  his  sovereigns  —  a 
trait  that  cultivated  a  humility  and  meekness  of  spirit 
which,  in  all  the  proud  triumph  of  his  after  life,  nev- 
er were  exchanged  for  arrogance.  The  purity  and  no- 
bleness of  his  aspirations,  and  the  deep-toned  and  en- 
thusiastic piety  that  was  prominent  in  all  his  visions 
and  projects,  lent  an  imposing  dignity  to  his  presence. 

Columbus  was  too  immortal  to  be  permitted  to  rest 
quietly  in  his  grave.  His  dust  was  thrice  disinterred, 
and  received  a  fourth  and  splendid  burial  at  Havanna, 
after  successive  removals  from  Yalladolid,  Seville  and 
Hispaniola.  From  the  latter  place,  he  was  borne,  not 
as  once,  a  living  victim  of  jealousy  and  chains,  but 
a  dead  conqueror  in  triumph ;  and  his  ashes  were 
placed  in  their  last  resting  place  amid  the  pomp  of 
cathedral  service,  the  firing  of  canon  and  the  splen 
dor  of  military  honors. 

ft 


II. 


AMERICUS  YESPUCIUS. 

A  :meke  freak  of  fortune,  if  not  a  course  of  decep- 
tion, exalted  the  name  of  a  man,  who,  otherwise,  could 
not  have  won  for  his  own  brow  the  laurels  which 
should  have  crowned  Columbus.  He  had  neither  the 
genius  of  him  who  turned  the  first  prow  towards  the 
unknown  world,  nor  its  frequent  substitute  —  a 
daring  prowess,  for  which  his  fellow-vojager,  Ojeda, 
was  so  remarkable.  He  certainly  deserves  the  enco- 
miums of  his  countrymen  for  his  successful  applica- 
tion of  astronomical  science  to  the  earth's  equation ; 
but  it  would  be  no  more  unjust  to  claim  for  him,  on 
that  account,  the  honors  of  Ptolemy,  whose  discovery 
of  the  conjunction  of  the  planets  gave  him  that  suc- 
cess, than  to  ascribe  to  him  the  glory  of  being  the  first 
discoverer  of  America. 

His  first  voyage,  of  which  no  convincing  proofs 
can  be  obtained,  if  prosecuted  at  all,  was  simultane- 
ous with  that  of  the  Cabots.  His  second,  shared  with 
Ojeda,  was  but  the  following  up  of  a  route  previously 
traversed  by  Columbus,  whose  charts  had  been  ob- 
tained for  a  guide  by  unfair  meana.     But,  whether 


AAIEEICUS    VESPUCIUS.  67 

true  Of  false,  his  claims  must  remain  a  point  of  dis- 
pute, till  better  evidence  comes  to  liglit  from  the  dusty 
archives  of  the  Old  World  ;  if  false,  abundant  re- 
proach already  rests  upon  his  name  ;  and  if  true,  Co- 
lumbus must  still  retain  the  proud  distinction  of  first 
>^4!»u£rhin2  the  breadth  of  the  Atlantic,  first  heralding 
tho  existence  of  a  ITew  World,  and  wedding  its  shores 
to  the  Old. 

Americus  Yespucius  was  born  in  Florence,  on  the 
9th  of  March,  1451.  He  was  the  third  son  of  Anas- 
tasio  Vespucci  and  Elizabeth  Mini,  and  descended 
from  a  long  line  of  illustrious  and  noble  ancestors. 
His  father  was  a  man  of  moderate  wealth,  but  occu- 
pied what  was  then  a  fine  edifice  near  the  gate  of 
Florence,  known  at  the  present  day  as  the  Porta  del 
Prato.  The  house  still  stands  in  the  street  called 
Borgongnisanti,  is  occupied  by  monks,  and  used  as 
an  hospital  for  the  sick  poor.  Over  the  doorway,  a 
marble  tablet  bears  the  name  of  Americus,  with  an 
inscription  lauding  him  as  the  illustrious  discoverer 
of  America. 

Like  all  the  residences  of  the  nobility  of  Florence, 
it  stood  near  the  gates  of  the  city,  to  permit  a  ready 
escape  for  the  family  in  times  of  sudden  outbursts 
among  the  populace.  Strongholds  and  elegant  villas 
lined  the  vale  of  Arno,  from  Pisa  to  the  Appenines, 
aflfording  resorts  of  pleasure  as  well  as  security.  Tlie 
Arno  receives  its  tribute  of  waters  from  the  towering 
mountains  at  the  head  of  the  valley ;  it  winds  through 
the-green  vale  which  was  then  all  along  enlivened  by 


QS  DISCOVERERS    A^D    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

picturesque  houses  and  gardens,  and  warlike  castles ; 
it  curves  beneath  four  ponderous  bridges  at  Florence, 
and  rolls  on  through  the  beautiful  valley,  divides  the 
far-famed  city  of  Pisa,  and,  a  league  beyond,  throws 
itself  into  the  sea. 

In  this  beautiful  rural  scene,  as  much  of  the  boy- 
hood of  Americus  passed,  as  in  the  palace-lined  streets, 
the  arched  walks  of  the  Boboli  gardens,  the  statued 
squares,  or  the  magnificent  cathedral  and  royal  chap- 
els of  Florence  —  the  last  of  such  elegance  and  ex- 
quisite workmanship,  that  Michael  Angelo  himself 
could  but  gaze  and  wonder. 

Among  the  many  convents  of  Florence  was  one 
where  the  sons  of  the  principal  nobles  assembled  for 
instruction.  Georgio  Antonio  Yespucci,  a  man  dis- 
tinguished for  his  learning  and  piety,  and  uncle  to 
Americus,  had  been  early  destined  to  the  church,  and 
was  a  monk  of  the  order  of  St.  Mark.  His  convent 
was  the  resort  of  the  young  Florentines,  among  whom 
Americus  was  included,  with  the  intention  of  educa- 
ting him  for  a  merchant.  It  was  a  "  long  established 
custom  among  the  nobility,  to  devote  one  of  the 
younger  sons  to  a  mercantile  life,  as  in  those  days  it 
not  only  brought  immense  wealth,  but  high  consid- 
eration. The  bankers  and  capitalists  of  Florence  had 
already  exercised  powerful  influence  in  national  af- 
fairs." 

Americus  received  a  liberal  and  thorough  educa- 
tion—  one  which  fitted  him  for  any  position.  In 
1478,  his  studies  were  interrupted  by  the  universal 


Al^EEKICUS   VESPUCIUS.  69 

panic  that  followed  the  appearance  of  the  plague. 
His  parents  withdrew  him  from  the  convent,  and  haS' 
tened  with  him  to  a  country  seat  far  up  the  valley  of 
the  Arno.  When  the  pestilence  had  subsided,  and 
Florence  was  repopulated  with  those  who  had  fled 
in  dismay  from  the  dreaded  contamination,  Yespucci 
again  opened  his  school.  Americus  was  among  the 
first  to  resume  his  studies,  but  many  of  the  young 
Florentines  were  enticed  from  their  studious  pursuits 
to  the  recreations  by  which  the  nobility  sought  to 
efiace  tlie  remembrance  of  the  terror,  gloom  and 
death,  which  had  stalked  through  the  deserted  streets. 

Lorenzo,  the  Magnificent,  held  his  court  in  the  same 
gilded  palace,  which,  a  short  time  before,  had  been 
infested  with  the  breath  of  the  plague,  and  had  been 
left  in  lonely  grandeur,  a  palace  for  the  King  of  Ter- 
rors. But  no  sooner  had  the  dreaded  conqueror 
strode  away,  than  the  fugitives  came  rushing  back 
with  noisy  mirth  and  revelling,  as  if  in  mockery  of 
the  sounds  of  woe  and  wailing  that  had  not  yet  died 
away.  Festival  after  festival,  and  various  entertain- 
ments of  dazzling  splendor,  busied  the  inhabitants, 
till,  in  the  strife  to  excel  in  dissipation  and  extrava- 
gance, they  seemed  to  have  gone  mad.  Strangers 
were  attracted  by  the  unbounded  gayety  of  the  new 
court ;  their  presence  afforded  an  additional  entice- 
ment to  the  young  students,  who  hastily  abandoned 
their  books  for  amusements  at  the  palace,  or  at  the 
residences  fo  the  nobility. 

Americus  was  too  much  of  a  stoic  to  yield  to  the 


70  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

impulses  of  jouth.  His  thoughtful  and  retiring  char- 
acter hetter  adapted  him  to  a  studious  application  to 
book  lore,  in  the  solemn,  silent  hall  of  the  convent, 
than  to  reckless  dissipation  among  the  frivolous  and 
unlearned.  When  his  studies  were  completed,  he 
went  forth  from  his  uncle's  masterly  hand,  a  finished 
scholar,  such  as  was  rare  out  of  the  cloister.  He  was 
equally  fitted  for  a  financier,  a  navigator,  and  for 
philosophical  research.  The  lessons  of  piety  he  had 
received  from  his  revered  relative,  were  firmly  im- 
planted, and  afforded  him  that  undoubting  reliance 
upon  the  providence  of  God,  which  was  his  support 
in  the  vicissitudes  of  life,  and  a  source  of  joy  and 
thankfulness  in  prosperity. 

Nothing  is  known  of  the  occupations  of  Yespucius 
during  the  ten  years  that  followed  the  completion  of 
his  studies,  except  that  he  continued  to  pursue  his  re- 
searches in  cosmography,  to  which  science  his  earliest 
preferences  directed  him.  He  collected  the  most  ac- 
curate maps  and  charts  that  could  be  found,  and  ea- 
gerly traced  out  the  shores  of  newly  discovered  re- 
gions which  every  voyage  added  to  the  known  world. 
Every  active  mind  was  occupied  with  speculations 
upon  what  remained  to  be  revealed.  Yespucius  had 
not  the  vivid  imagination  to  behold  a  continent  in  the 
midst  of  the  great  space  that  was  yet  vailed  in  mys- 
tery, but  his  calm,  deliberate  reason  was  preparing 
him  to  follow  closely  in  the  wake  of  the  pioneering 
vessel,  and  with  liis  own  signature  stamp  the  un- 
claimed world. 


AMEBICUS   VESPUCmS.  71 

Yespucius  was  driven  to  tlie  mercantile  life,  for 
which  his  father  destined  him,  bj  the  misfortunes  of 
a  brother,  whose  losses  involved  the  family  estates. 
He  decided  to  seek  his  fortune  in  Spain,  where  the 
splendid  court  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and  the 
brilliant  military  exDloits  of  their  nobles,  attracted 
the  young  and  ambitious  of  noble  birth  from  all  coun- 
tries. The  Italian  merchants  took  advantage  of  these 
movements  and  the  consequent  demand  of  their  stuffs 
among  the  assembled  cavaliers  of  Europe.  Americus 
was  commissioned  an  agent  for  one  of  the  houses 
of  Medici,  and  it  is  supposed  also  he  had  some  con- 
nection with  Juan  Berardi,  a  wealthy  Florentine  mer- 
chant then  engaged  in  Spain. 

In  1490,  he  left  Florence  for  Spain,  accompanied 
by  several  young  nobles  who  were  placed  under  his 
guardianship.  Thus,  after  nearly  forty  years  spent 
in  study  and  seclusion,  he  entered  upon  the  stirring 
scenes  enacting  in  Spain,  with  little  danger  of  being 
crazed  with  the  enthusiasm  that  turned  so  many 
heads.  There  was  nothing  in  Americus  of  the  adven- 
turous spirit  which  sent  hosts  into  sudden  enterprises 
without  "  counting  the  cost ;  "  whatever  he  did  was 
the  result  of  deliberate  conclusions.  It  is  not  surpri- 
sing, therefore,  that,  with  all  his  predilection  for  voy- 
age and  discovery,  he  did  not  enlist  in  any  of  the  ex- 
citing enterprises  of  the  day,  till  the  f\iilure  of  his 
commercial  employments  left  him  no  other  resource. 
There  was  nothing  sufficiently  striking  in  his  per- 
sonal appearance  to  command  attention  in  the  Span- 


72  DISCOYEEEKS   AJ^D   PIOKEERS   OF   AMERICA. 

ish  cities,  already  teeming  with  grandees  and  knights 
who  outshone  lesser  lights.  Yespucius  was  retiring 
and  gentle  in  his  deportment ;  he  possessed  none  of 
the  dignity  of  address  that  made  the  presence  of  Co- 
lumbus so  imposing  ;  he  was  better  calculated  to  cul- 
tivate friendship  than  to  command  the  adulation  of 
the  public.  He  was  of  medium  height,  thick-set  and 
brawny.  His  forehead  was  low  and  retreating,  but 
of  remarkable  breadth.  His  eyes  were  large  and 
dark,  his  nose  aquiline,  and  his  mouth  expressive  both 
of  firmness  and  amiability.  His  complexion  was 
dark,  and  his  hair  black,  thickly  sprinkled  with  grey ; 
he  always  wore  a  bushy  beard.  Such  is  the  descrip- 
tion given  of  him  at  the  time  of  his  arrival  in  SjDain, 
though  a  preserved  portrait  was  taken  at  a  much  la- 
ter period  of  life. 

After  some  time  spent  in  transacting  the  affairs 
with  which  he  had  been  commissioned  at  Barcelona, 
he  repaired  to  Seville,  and,  it  is  supposed,  became 
a  participator  with  Berardi,  in  contracts  with  the 
Spanish  government,  for  fitting  out  armaments  to  be 
sent  on  voyages  of  discovery.  These  occupations 
gave  new  zest  to  his  speculations.  "When  Columbus 
returned  from  his  first  voyage,  he  sought  interviews, 
which  must  have  been  full  of  intense  interest  and  ex- 
citement to  both,  though  their  opinions  essentially 
differed.  Columbus  believed  he  had  arrived  at  the 
dominions  of  the  Grand  Khan,  described  by  Marco 
Polo,  and  that  he  should  soon  discover  Paradise, 
which  the  most  learned  divines  believed  still  exist od 


AMERICUS   VESPUCIUS.  73 

upon  tlie  eartli.  Yespucius  argued  that  the  rich 
countries  he  sought  lay  far  beyond  those  ah-eady 
brought  to  light,  and  that,  though  the  paradisiacal 
regions  might  be  iu  the  vicinity  of  the  balmy  islands 
of  the  Indies,  yet  a  great  body  of  water  separated 
them  from  the  anticipated  continent.  His  calm  rea- 
sons brought  him  to  more  just  conclusions  than  re- 
sulted from  the  researches  of  the  inspired  and  enthu- 
siastic Columbus,  who  saw  everything  in  the  decep- 
tive light  of  a  vivid  imagination. 

The  death  of  Berardi,  in  1495,  left  to  Yespucius 
the  settlement  of  his  affairs,  which  seems  to  have  oc- 
cupied him  nearly  two  years.  His  employment  by 
the  government  brought  him  in  contact  with  its  offi- 
cers, one  of  the  principal  of  whom.  Bishop  Fonseca, 
manifested  much  interest  in  him.  It  was  probably 
he  who  obtained  his  appointment  to  ''  assist "  in  dis- 
coveries and  accompany  an  expedition  (which  is  as- 
serted to  have  occurred  in  1497,)  somewhat  in  the 
position  of  agent  of  the  king.  He  was  not  the  com- 
mander of  the  fleet,  and  seems  to  have  acted  a  sub- 
ordinate part  in  the  enterprise.  If  the  voyage  was 
made,  therefore,  and  if  the  discovery  of  Paria  was 
the  result,  he  was  no  more  entitled  to  the  consequent 
honors  than  the  person  or  persons  whom  he  accom- 
panied to  "  assist;  "  else  why  was  he  not  recognized 
and  honored  as  the  discoverer  by  Ferdinand  and 
Fonseca,  both  of  whom  were  ready  to  foil  the  claims 
of  Columbus  ?     A  man  of  the  malignant  hatred  and 

artful  cunning  of  Fonseca,  never  would  have  permit 
D 


74:  DISCOVERERS    AND    TIOXEERS    OF   AitEEICA. 

ted  the  deserved  honors  of  a  favorite  to  be  bestowed 
upon  one  whom  he  bitterly  hated.  Neither  would 
2>rivate  considerations  have  been  likely  to  despoil 
him  of  the  coveted  fame  of  discovering  a  continent, 
as  is  nrged  by  one  of  his  biographers. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  a 
man  of  the  acknowledged  integrity  of  Yespucius, 
should  have  attempted  such  a  deception,  or,  if  he  had 
been  a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing,  that  he  should  have 
been  so  short-sighted  as  to  advance  claims  that  could 
easily  be  charged  with  falsity.  Perhaps  succeeding 
generations  may  smooth  the  knotted  thread  which 
the  learned  of  several  centuries  have  jDatiently  sought 
to  straighten,  and  have  only  succeeded  in  more  thor- 
oughly entangling. 

The  disputed  letter  was  written  to  Piero  Soderini, 
one  who  had  been  a  fellow-student  in  the  convent  of 
Yespucci,  and  who,  in  his  fifty-second  year,  had  been 
elected  president  of  the  Florentine  republic,  under 
the  title  of  Perpetual  Gonfaloniere,  in  place  of  the 
banished  Medici  family.  Yespucius  states  to  him 
that  an  account  of  his  voyages  "  was  formerly  written 
in  barbarous  style,  destitute  of  the  polish  of  litera- 
ture, and  directed  to  Don  Ferdinand,  king  of  Castile." 

He  relates  of  his  first  voyage  that  he  sailed  from 
the  port  of  Cadiz,  the  tenth  ot*  May,  1497,  as  an  as- 
sistant in  the  expected  discoveries,  and  "  with  fojir 
ships  in  company."  Favorable  winds  bore  them  to 
the  shores  of  the  New  World,  in  twenty-seven  days. 
As  soon  as  they  beheld  land,  preparations  were  made 


AMEKICUS    VESPUCIUS.  75 

to  go  on  shore,  for,  altliougli  there  was  no  convenient 
or  safe  harbor,  curiosity  and  wonder  prevailed.  The 
ship  was  anchored  a  league  and  a  half  from  the  shore, 
the  boats  were  lowered,  and  quickly  manned  by  those 
who  were  eager  to  behold  the  famed  wonders  of  a 
Kew  World  and  a  new  race.  Distant  glimpses  of 
human  beings  fleeing  along  the  shore  and  hiding 
themselves  in  the  woods,  assured  them  that  the  coast 
was  inhabited ;  but,  by  the  time  they  touched  the 
shore,  not  a  living  creature  was  to  be  seen,  and  no- 
thing remained  to  gratify  their  curiosity  but  the  gi 
gantic  vegetation,  and  the  innumerable  birds  of  gor- 
geous plumage  that  flitted  among  the  towering  trees. 
The  look  of  deserted  luxuriance,  and  the  profound 
silence  that  prevailed,  sent  them  back  to  the  ships, 
half  inclined  to  believe  they  had  been  enticed  by  crea- 
tures of  the  imagination. 

The  four  caravels  set  sail  in  search  of  a  safe  harbor. 
During  the  two  days  of  coasting  that  followed,  they 
again  beheld,  all  along  the  shore,  hosts  of  savages  is- 
sembled  in  groups,  to  consult  upon  the  nature  of  t^ie 
wonderful  apparition,  or  running  swiftly  along  the 
beach,  to  keep  pace  with  the  winged  monsters  th?.t 
skimmed  over  the  sea  within  sight. 

The  ships  anchored  in  a  place  of  safety,  and  again 
the  boats  were  manned  and  sent  ashore.  As  before, 
the  natives  fled  in  terror  from  the  strange  beings,  of 
whose  size  and  shape  they  could  form  no  notion, 
by  reason  of  the  full  Spanish  robes,  frills,  slouched 
hats  and  plumes ;  nor,  unused  as  they  were  to  the 


76  DISCOVERERS   A^B   PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA. 

sight  of  clothing,  could  they  quite  determine  if  the 
brilliant  costumes  grew  with  the  bodies  or  not. 
They  fled  to  the  neighboring  hills,  and  could  not  be 
induced  to  approach  till  after  a  long  parley  by  signs, 
at  a  safe  distance.  Little  by  little,  and  with  a  timid- 
ity that  was  startled  at  every  movement,  they  ven- 
tured at  last  to  behold  the  strangers  nearer,  and  re- 
ceive the  trinkets  which  they  regarded  as  of  inesti- 
mable value.  Night  approaching,  the  Spaniards 
returned  to  their  ships. 

The  next  morning  the  shore  was  lined  with  crowds  ol 
natives,  waiting  to  welcome  their  marvelous  visitors, 
and  evincing  their  good  will  by  having  brought  with 
them  burdens  of  magnificent  plumes,  necklaces  offish- 
bones,  and  nose  and  ear  ornaments  of  green  and  white 
stones,  beside  abundant  provisions.  The  utmost  good 
feeling  prevailed.  The  Spaniards  were  busied  in  no- 
ting tlie  peculiar  customs  of  the  savages,  of  so  volup- 
tuous a  nature  that  Americus  decided  them  to  be  an 
Epicurean  race.  The  natives,  in  their  turn,  were 
equally  bewildered  and  amused  with  the  Spaniards 
Lnd  their  ships,  and  unwillingly  beheld  them  depart 
frcw  cheir  shores. 

After  coasting  for  some  distance,  the  caravels  were 
again  anchored  in  a  harbor  where  the  modern  Vene- 
zuela stands.  The  voyagers  beheld  with  astonishment 
a  village  built  like  the  "  City  of  Bridges,"  over  the 
water.  The  houses  were  bell-shaped  and  communi- 
cated with  each  other  by  drawbridges,  which,  upon 
the  appearance  of  the  strangers,  were  instantly  raised. 


AALEEICUS   VESPUCIUS.  77 

the  inhabitants  concealing  themselves  in  their  sino-u- 
lar  fortresses.  At  length,  a  little  fleet  of  canoes  dart- 
ed out  from  a  hidden  cove,  filled  with  Indians,  who 
swiftly  approached  the  ships.  They  reconnoitred  the 
caravels  a  few  moments,  then  returned  to  the  shore 
as  swiftly  as  they  came,  and  fled  to  the  hills.  They 
were  not  long  invisible,  for,  with  multiplied  numbers, 
they  again  flocked  to  the  beach  and  threw  themselves 
into  their  canoes,  or  into  the  sea,  and  glided  speedily 
towards  the  ships. 

The  Spaniards  were  delighted  with  this  proof  of 
confidence  and  friendship,  but,  upon  a  certain  signal, 
they  were  confounded  to  behold  the  naked  hosts  sud- 
denly bristling  with  weapons  which  had  been  adroitly 
concealed  in  the  water.  A  battle  ensued,  with  little 
harm  on  either  side,  but  which  induced  the  unwel- 
come intruders  to  pursue  their  voyage,  and  seek  more 
amicable  shores.  Several  weeks  were  occupied  in 
communicating  with  the  savages,  along  the  coast  and 
a  short  distance  in  the  interior.  In  a  fierce  battle 
that  occurred  in  one  of  the  ports,  they  took  two 
hundred  and  fifty  prisoners,  to  be  sold  in  Spain  for 
slaves,  and  with  these  they  decided  to  sail  homeward. 

Their  arrival  at  Cadiz  created  no  sensation,  and  no 
mention  whatever  was  made  of  the  alleged  discovery. 
But  when,  three  months  afterwards,  ships  arrived 
from  Ilispaniola  with  letters  from  Columbus,  giving 
an  account  of  his  voyage  to  Paria,  all  Spain  was  fired 
with  new  enthusiasm,  and  the  disasters  of  the  colony 
of  Isabella  we^e  forgotten  in  the  reawakened  ardof 


78  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF   A^IERICA. 

for  adventure  and  riches.  If  Araericus  had  already 
explored  the  same  coast,  why  did  not  Ferdinand,  jeal- 
ous as  he  was  of  the  privileges  he  had  granted  to  Co- 
lumbus, make  known  the  antecedent  claims  of  Yes- 
pucius  ?  And  what  private  considerations  could  liave 
deterred  the  inveterate  hatred  of  Fonseca  from  seiz- 
ing such  an  opportunity  to  lessen  the  fame  of  the 
distinguished  Genoese  ? 

Arrangements  were  immediately  made  for  Yespu- 
cius  to  accompany  an  expedition  over  the  same  route. 
He  was  with  difficulty  prevailed  upon  to  engage  in 
it,  as  he  had  just  formed  ties  that  strongly  attracted 
him  to  a  more  settled  life.  During  his  residence  at 
Seville,  he  had  formed  an  attachment  to  Donna  Ma- 
ria Cerezo,  a  resident  of  that  city ;  the  engagement 
that  ensued  was  not  consummated  till  after  his  return 
from  his  first  voyage,  owing  probably  to  reverses 
of  fortune.  Soon  after  his  marriage,  he  repaired  to 
court,  where  he  was  graciously  received  by  Ferdi- 
nand, and  was  the  object  of  marked  favor  from  Bish- 
op Fonseca. 

Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  who  had  accompanied  Columbus 
on  his  second  voyage,  was  then  at  court  without  em- 
ployment. His  love  of  wild  adventure,  and  the 
straitened  means  to  which  he  had  been  reduced  by 
his  recklessness,  suggested  the  idea  of  following  up 
the  discoveries  of  Columbus,  and  enriching  himself 
with  the  promised  spoils.  Fonseca  had  possession 
of  the  maps  and  charts  indicating  the  route,  and  im- 
mediately delivered  them  to  Ojeda,  encouraging  him 


A^IEEICUS   VESPUCIUS.  79 

at  the  same  time  to  take  tlie  command  of  an  expedi- 
tion which  he  would  see  provided,  though  in  dishon- 
orable violation  of  the  royal  interdiction  of  private 
adventure.  The  bishop  knew  enough  of  the  secret 
perfidy  of  Ferdinand,  not  to  hesitate  in  2:>rosecnting 
plans  that  would  interfere  with  the  interests  of  Co- 
lumbus. 

He  issued  a  commission  on  his  own  responsibility, 
giving  Ojeda  license  to  explore  the  coast  of  Paria  and 
adjacent  countries,  with  a  few  restrictions.  Ojeda 
was  in  his  own  element  while  preparing  this  maraud- 
ing enterprise,  in  which  he  fully  believed  he  should 
acquire  fame  and  fortune,  and  at  the  same  time  grat- 
ify his  Quixotic  spirit.  Being  an  inexperienced  nav- 
igator, however,  he  induced  Americus  Yespucius  and 
Juan  de  la  Cosa,  both  reputedly  skilled  in  nautical 
affairs,  to  accompany  his  fleet.  Four  vessels  were 
soon  equipped  in  the  Bay  of  Cadiz,  at  a  little  port 
called  St.  Mary.  Forces  were  readily  obtained  to 
man  the  vessels,  as  the  enthusiasm  w^as  sufficient  to 
entice  even  the  haggard,  disappointed  mariners  who 
had  just  dragged  themselves  from  the  impoverished 
and  distracted  colony  at  Hispaniola. 

By  the  eighteenth  of  May,  1499,  the  fleet  set  sail, 
wholly  under  the  command  of  Ojeda.  Americus 
seems  to  have  held  a  position  similar  to  that  in  his 
first  voyage,  and,  through  the  self-conceit  of  Cosa, 
mus/"  have  been  overruled  by  him  in  matters  of  consul- 
tation. Americus  was  modest  and  retiring  in  his  de- 
portment, while  the  hardy  veteran,  Juan  de  la  Cosa, 


so  DISCO VEKEKS   AiJ-D   PI0NEEK3    OF   AMEEIGA. 

held  himself  equal  to  Columbus.  He  exercised  a  pa^ 
ternal  influence  over  Ojeda,  remonstrating  at  one 
moment  with  the  headlong,  reckless,  hot-headed  fa- 
vorite, and,  at  the  next,  rushing  with  him  into  what- 
ever dangers  his  rashness  carried  him,  intent  onlj 
upon  watching  over  his  safety.  At  once  a  parent,  a 
counselor,  and  a  partisan,  he  guarded  him,  expostu- 
lated with  him,  and  fought  for  him.  Instigated  by  a 
warm  attachment,  "  this  wary  veteran,"  in  the  words 
of  an  eloquent  historian,  "  forgetting  his  usual  pru- 
dence and  the  lessons  of  his  experience,  embarked; 
heart  and  hand,  purse  and  person,  in  the  wild  enter- 
prises of  his  favorite."  To  his  last  hour,  he  followed 
Ojeda,  and  sacrificed  his  life  in  defending  him. 

These  were  the  companions  w^ith  whom  Americus 
again  ventured  to  the  'New  World,  or  beheld  it  for 
the  first  time.  The  similarity  of  occurrences  during 
this  voyage  with  the  account  of  his  previous  one,  in- 
duces some  of  his  biographers  to  charge  him  with 
fabricating  the  first  out  of  the  second.  However  that 
may  be,  the  voyage  prosecuted  with  Ojeda  is  without 
dispute,  and  during  this  he  worked  out  a  j)roblem 
which  would  have  rescued  his  name  from  oblivion, 
had  no  credit  been  given  him  for  the  discovery  of 
America. 

In  forty -four  days  after  leaving  Cadiz,  they  arrived 
at  the  South  American  continent,  after  touching  at 
intervening  islands.  Americus  gives  an  interesting 
account  of  interviews  with  the  natives,  and  of  their 
customs.     Upon  an  island  near  the  coast,  he  found 


AMERICUS    VESPUCIUS.  81 

a  people  who  wore  two  gourds  fastened  about  tlio 
neck,  one  containing  green  herbs,  the  other  a  kind  of 
meal,  with  which  they  alternately  filled  their  mouths 
till  they  were  scarcely  able  to  speak.  They  constantly 
chewed  the  mixture,  "  as  beasts  chew  the  cud."  He 
adds,  "  We  were  surprised  at  their  conduct,  and  could 
not  understand  for  what  purpose  they  indulged  in  the 
nauseous  practice."  If  Yespucius  and  his  compan- 
ions could  revisit  American  shores  in  this  century, 
they  might  add  to  their  quaint  manuscripts,  descrip- 
tions of  a  people  who  not  only  continually  "chew 
vile  herbs,"  but  protrude  from  their  lips  rolls  of  dried 
weed,  perpetually  burning  and  enveloping  them  in 
clouds  of  smoke,  which  they  watch  in  ecstacies  of  de- 
light as  it  rolls  and  curls  before  their  dreamy  vision, 
till,  pervaded  by  a  delicious  langour,  or  soothed  by 
its  magnetic  power,  their  feet  gradually  obey  a  law 
like  that  which  governs  the  needle,  and  point  towards 
some  polar  star.  In  more  respects  than  one  would 
not  Americus'  descriptions  of  his  modern  namesakes 
have  appeared  grotesque  to  themselves  ? 

These  islanders  obtained  fresh  water  only  by  gath- 
ering leaves  filled  with  dew,  from  a  plant  which 
must  have  resembled  the  pitcher-plant.  Having  nei- 
ther wigwams  nor  huts,  they  employed  the  simplest 
mechanism  to  obtain  a  domicil.  They  plucked  an 
immense  leaf  from  a  tree,  thrust  its  stem  into  the 
ground,  and  crept  under  the  green  tent,  each  one  a 
sole  possessor  of  his  ample  shelter ;  if  the  rain  in- 
commoded them,  umbrellas  hung  plentifully  from  the 

D*  6 


82  DISCOVEREKS   ANT)    TIONEEKS   OF   AMERICA. 

branches  that  gave  them  houses  ;  if  the  sun  oppressed 
them  while  they  gathered  fish  from  the  sea,  the  same 
green  canopy  curtained  their  canoes.  Blissful  in  their 
io-norance,  and  with  no  care  for  to-morrow,  life  was 
to  them  but  a  voluptuous  existence,  and  death  a  mys- 
tery they  could  not  fathom. 

The  next  island  at  which  the  Spaniards  touched,  is 
supposed  to  have  been  Curazao.  From  its  loneliness 
and  silence,  they  presumed  it  to  be  uninhabited,  but, 
upon  landing,  beheld  a  large  footprint  in  the  sand, 
about  which  they  gathered  with  wonder  and  conjec- 
tures, that  increased  at  every  attempt  to  fit  its  huge 
proportions  to  their  own  size.  After  wandering  near- 
ly a  league's  distance  along  the  shore,  and  through 
the  forest,  they  discovered  "  cottages "  in  a  deep 
valley,  occupied  by  Amazon-like  females,  of  giant 
forms.  A  party  of  warriors,  of  towering  height, 
bearing  immense  weapons,  soon  gathered  in  from  the 
woods.  The  pale-faced,  gayly-dressed  Spaniards 
caused  them  as  much  curiosity  and  fear  as  the  dimin- 
utive Leprechauns  inspire  in  the  Green  Isle ;  and 
the  voyagers  breathed  freely,  only  when  they  had  es- 
caped the  settlement,  and  placed  a  safe  distance  be- 
tween them  and  the  giants,  who  followed  them  to  the 
shore.  As  they  pushed  off  for  the  shij),  a  shower  of 
heavy  arrows  whizzed  towards  them,  but  fell  harm- 
lessly in  the  track  of  their  swiftly  receding  boat.  A 
returning  discharge  of  guns  sent  the  terrified  Indians 
on  a  speedy  race  for  the  forests  gjid  hills,  leaving  the 
voyagers  to  proceed  unmolested     Succeeding  discov- 


AMEIUCUS   VESPUCIUS.  83 

^rers  assert  that  the  inhabitants  of  that  island  were 
of  the  ordinary  size ;  Yespucius,  therefore,  must 
have  drawn  largely  npon  his  imagination. 

Many  of  the  events  of  the  voyage  were  entirely 
similar  to  those  narrated  of  the  first.  Irving  unhesi- 
tatingly combines  the  two,  thus  divesting  Americus  of 
all  claims  to  the  discovery  of  the  continent,  and  per- 
mits him  to  coast  Paria  for  the  first  time  with  Ojeda. 

After  exploring  the  Gulf  of  Venezuela  and  sailing 
along  the  coast  as  far  as  Cape  de  la  Yela,  Ojeda  de- 
cided to  direct  his  little  fleet  to  Hispaniola,  though  in 
violation  of  his  commission.  Thinking  to  excuse  his 
infringement  of  the  articles  by  the  necessity  of  re- 
pairing his  ships  and  obtaining  provisions,  he  entered 
the  harbor  of  Yaquimo.  As  he  made  no  announce- 
ment of  his  arrival  to  Columbus,  then  at  San  Domin- 
go, and  as  report  assured  the  admiral  of  Ojeda's  in- 
tention to  cut  dye-woods  and  seize  the  natives  for 
slaves,  a  party  was  immediately  dispatched  from  San 
Domingo,  to  demand  an  explanation  of  the  clandes- 
tine visit. 

Roldan,  the  crafty,  intrepid  and  impudent  leader 
of  faction  in  the  new  colonies,  after  gaining  all  he 
required  from  Columbus,  adopted  the  policy  of  ato- 
ning for  his  rebellion  by  some  act  of  loyalty.  He 
readily  accepted  the  admiral's  appointment  as  leader 
of  the  expedition  —  a  selection  made  solely  to  divert 
his  mischievous  talent.  lie  sailed  with  two  caravels 
to  the  western  end  of  the  island,  intercepted  Ojeda 


84  DISCO YEREKS   A^D   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA.  * 

and  Lis  exploring  party,  and  boldly  demanded  the 
reasons  of  his  stolen  visit.  The  two  were  well  met, 
being  equally  daring,  resolute  and  cunning.  Several 
days  passed  in  various  manoeuvres  on  both  sides,  but 
neither  gained  the  advantage.  Ojeda  and  his  party 
finally  had  recourse  to  their  ships,  and  put  off  to  oth- 
er islands,  in  quest  of  slaves  with  which  to  freight 
their  vessels. 

With  a  full  cargo  of  Indian  captives,  they  set  sail 
for  Spain,  and,  after  a  voyage  of  a  month  and  a  half, 
entered  the  bay  of  Cadiz  —  not  without  the  mortifica- 
tion of  beholding,  anchored  in  the  same  port,  an  in- 
significant armament  which  had  sailed  after  and  re- 
turned before  Ojeda,  richly  laden  with  pearls  and 
gold,  while  his  own  success  had  been  so  meagre  that 
only  five  hundred  ducats  remained  to  be  distributed 
among  his  fifty-five  followers. 

Americus  certainly  did  not  better  his  fortunes  in 
this  enterprise.  But  his  reputation  as  a  learned  and 
skillful  ■  navigator,  secured  a  flattering  reception  at 
court  by  Ferdinand,  and  the  patronage  of  the  wily 
Bishop  Fonseca.  The  merchants  of  Seville,  to  whom 
Yespucius  was  well  known,  undismayed  by  the  fail- 
ure of  the  expedition  he  had  accompanied,  offered  to 
fit  out  a  fleet  with  which  he  should  prosecute  discov- 
eries, and,  at  the  same  time,  reap  the  fancied  harvests 
that  lay  along  the  South  American  shores.  But  while 
the  preparations  were  being  made,  some  unexplaina- 
ble  circumstances  decided  Americus  to  abandon  the 


AMERIOUS   VESPUCIUS.  85 

service  of  Spain.  About  the  same  time,  a  message 
was  brought  him  from  the  king  of  Portugal,  desiring 
him  to  accompany  a  newly  projected  enterprise. 

The  contention  between  Spain  and  Portugal,  con- 
cerning the  accidental  discovery  of  Brazil,  by  Cabral, 
a  year  previous,  had  just  been  settled,  and  the  ac- 
counts which  Yespucius  had  written  of  his  voyage 
with  Ojeda,  assured  king  Emmanuel  that  a  greater 
and  richer  extent  of  country  had  fallen  to  his  share, 
than  Cabral  had  led  him  to  believe.  Desirous  of  in- 
ducing Yespucius  to  enter  his  service,  and  explore 
these  newly  acquired  regions,  he  wrote  an  urgent  let- 
ter offering  him  splendid  rewards. 

Americus  was  then  residing  at  Seville,  a  city  whose 
beautiful  site  was  the  boast  of  all  Spain.  Its  horizon 
is  bounded  by  mountains,  and  the  plain  in  which  it 
stands  is  covered  with  olive  plantations,  hamlets  and 
convents.  The  Guadalquiver  winds  through  the  plain 
and  washes  the  base  of  the  walls  of  Seville.  The 
commercial  advantages  of  the  city  had  first  attracted 
Americus  ;  the  wealth  and  liberality  of  its  merchants, 
their  appreciation  of  his  merits,  and  its  having  been 
the  early  home  of  his  wife,  induced  him  to  make  it 
his  residence  when  in  Spain. 

Here  the  royal  messenger  found  him  and  awaited 
his  decision  for  several  days.  During  his  wanderings 
on  the  shores  of  the  ISTew  TVorld,  he  had  contracted 
a  disease  which  his  hardy  constitution  had  not  yet 
mastered ;  it  detracted  from  his  energies  and  usual 
decision  of  character,  and  caused  him  to  waver  in  re« 


8G  DISCOVERERS   AND    PIONEERS    OF   AJSIERICA. 

gard  to  the  plans  laid  before  liim.  Having  exhausted 
the  patience  of  the  messenger,  and  still  unwilling  to 
desert  Ferdinand,  yet  equally  averse  to  losing  the 
brilliant  opportunity  of  fame  and  fortune  before  him, 
he  sent  the  indefinite  replj^,  that  he  would  think  more 
seriously  of  the  project  when  his  health  was  fully  re- 
stored. 

King  Emmanuel,  finding  him  irresolute,  determined 
to  win  his  consent,  and  immediately  despatched  Juli- 
ano  Giocondo,  an  Italian  resident  of. Lisbon,  to  urge 
his  acceptance.  He  was  so  successful  that  he  re- 
turned accompanied  by  Americus,  who,  in  opposition 
to  the  advice  of  friends,  and  without  saluting  his  sov 
ereign,  departed  hastily  and  secretly  for  Portugal. 
Emmanuel  was  rejoiced  at  this  distingushed  addition 
to  the  corps  of  his  navigators.  He  was  intent  upon 
retrieving  the  losses  Portugal  had  experienced,  by 
its  refusal  of  Columbus.  He  welcomed  Yespu- 
cius  gladly,  and  directly  empowered  him  to  fit  out  a 

fieet. 

Three  caravels  were  soon  thoroughly  equipped  in 
the  port  of  Lisbon.  The  flow  of  the  Tagus  into  the 
bay  formed  a  bar  against  the  ocean,  that  rendered  the 
near  approach  of  ships  to  the  city  extremely  danger- 
ous. Lisbon  rises  like  an  amphitheatre  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  Tagus,  close  upon  the  bay,  and  is  guard- 
ed by  two  forts,  one  upon  an  island  at  the  mouth  of 
the  river,  the  other  upon  its  banks.  In  this  busy 
and  magnificent  port,  Americus  superintended  the 
outfit  of  :he  expedition  ;  he  was  not  appointed  to  the 


AMERICUS    VESrUClDS.  87 

command,  but,  from  Lis  own  account,  had  its  nautical 
management. 

On  the  thirteenth  of  May,  1501,  the  three  caravels 
set  sail  from  Lisbon,  for  "  the  land  of  pearls,"  with  a 
gay  crew,  full  of  glowing  expectations.  After  coast- 
inor  the  shores  of  Africa  and  touchino-  at  the  Cana- 
ries,  they  put  out  into  the  broad  ocean,  where,  for 
nearly  three  months,  they  were  tossed  hither  and 
thither,  by  the  winds  and  the  waves.  Terrific  storms 
followed  each  other  in  close  succession,  and  the  sky 
was  so  completely  overshadowed  with  black  clouds, 
that  they  could  see  but  little  better  during  the  day 
than  in  ordinary  nights.  To  add  to  their  distress  and 
exhaustion,  the  provisions  and  water  had  failed ; 
threatened  thus  with  famine  and  shipwreck,  and  hav- 
ing lost  their  way  in  the  unknown  seas,  no  hope  re- 
mained of  again  beholding  terra  Jirma^  and  they 
gave  themselves  up  to  lamentation  and  despair. 

At  this  crisis,  Americus  acquired  no  little  glory 
from  his  companions  by  the  exercise  of  his  superior 
knowledge.  Employing  his  astralobe  and  quadrant, 
he  ascertained  their  position,  and,  soon  after  obeying 
his  directions,  land  was  descried  in  the  distance.  Re- 
lieved from  dreadful  suspense  and  fear,  they  knelt, 
gave  thanks  to  God,  and,  with  returning  vigor,  sped 
towards  the  fair  continent  that  gradually  swelled  up- 
on their  sight  in  unequalled  luxuriance  and  fertility. 
Upon  nearing  the  shores,  they  marveled  at  the  gi 
gantif  vegetation,  for  which  those  lands  are  remarka- 
ble.    The  trees  of  immense  magnitude,  often  covered 


88  DISCO VEJiERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMKRlCiA. 

with  gorgeous  blossoms,  the  brilliantly-plumaged 
birds,  whose  gaudy  wings  were  often  confounded  with 
the  clustered  blossoms,  and  the  softness  of  the  cli- 
mate, the  more  welcome  after  rude  buffetings  with 
storms  at  sea,  inclined  them  to  believe  they  had 
at  last  arrived  at  the  paradisiacal  regions,  so  eagerly 
sought  by  every  voyager  from  the  Old  "World. 

Communication  with  the  Indians,  who  lined  the 
shore,  was  not  difficult,  from  the  fact  that  their  villa- 
ges lay  mostly  along  the  beach.  The  dense  forests, 
rendered  almost  impassable  by  a  thick,  tangled 
growth  of  underbrush,  were  left  to  wild  beasts,  with 
whom  the  natives  rarely  ventured  to  combat,  being 
unprotected  by  shields,  bucklers,  or  any  kind  of  clo- 
thing. 

Americus  seems  to  have  been  inclined  to  believe 
that  this  race  had  discovered  the  secret  of  prolonging 
existence  to  an  age  equal  to  that  of  the  patriarchs  of  old. 
Some  could  point  out  their  descendants  to  the  fourth 
generation,  and  informed  Yespucius  of  their  great  age, 
by  bringing  him  stones  to  represent  the  number  of 
moons  which  they  had  seen,  one  thus  laying  claim  to 
one  hundred  and  thirty-two  years.  Their  faces  were 
frightfully  disfigured,  the  flesh  being  perforated  and 
filled  with  colored  stones,  or  white  and  green  alabas- 
ter, while  rings,  fish  bones,  and  stones  hung  from  their 
lips,  noses  and  ears.  They  valued  nothing  so  highly 
as  these  ornaments  and  the  gay  plumes  with  which 
they  decorated  their  persons  ;  gold  and  pearls  they 
readily  yielded  to  the  avaricious  Spaniards,  receiving 


AMERICUS   VESPUCIUS.  89 

trifles  in  return,  and  wondering  among  tliemselves  at 
the  eagerness  with  which  the  precious  objects  were 

sought. 

The  apparent  wealth  of  the  country,  its  gigantic 
forests  perfuming  the  breezes  with  spicy  odors,  the 
mio-hty  rivers  flooding  into  the  ocean,  the  serene  cli- 
mate, the  new  and  wonderftilly  brilliant  stars  and  un- 
known constellations,  the  "  celestial  arch  "  occasion- 
ally perceived  by  them  with  admiration,  though,  to 
us,  an  ordinary  phenomenon  known  as  the  halo  of  the 
moon  — all  impressed  them  with  an  idea  of  magni- 
tude, riches,  beauty  and  novelty  that,  with  the  help 
of  imagination,  led  them  to  extol  the  splendors  and 
treasures  of  the  New  World  as  unequalled  and  inex- 
haustible.    The  pen  of  Americus  was  never  wearied 
in  transcribing  the  wonders  of  the  magnificent  king- 
doms, added  to  the  possessions  of  the  monarchs  whom 
he  served  ;   he  was  indefatigable  too,  in  his  labor  of 
applying  astronomical  science  to  navigation.     JSTight 
after  night  he  watched,  with  sleepless  eyes,  the  glit- 
tering sky,  gazed  in  transport  upon  the  countless  host 
of  stars,  numbered  the  most  brilliant,  watched  "the 
vapors  and  burning  flames  flashing  across  the  heav- 
ens,"  carefully  noted   the  conjunction  of  the  moon 
with  the  planets,  and  successfully  applied  it  to  the 
fixing  of  longitude  at  sea  ;  proudly  assuring  and  sus- 
taining himself  by  the  consciousness  that  this   last 
crowning  effort  placed  him  foremost  in  the  rank  of 
science,  and  that  by  means  of  it  his  fame  would  live 
through  ages. 


90  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIOXEEES    OF    AMERICA. 

The  commander  of  the  fleet  resigned  its  direction 
to  Americus,  after  having  explored  the  coast  satisfac- 
torily ;  all  engaged  in  the  voyage  wished  to  explore 
the  ocean,  and  discover  land  still  more  luxuriant  and 
more  abundant  in  golden  resources;  and  there  was 
none  on  board  the  fleet  better  capable  of  safely  gui- 
ding them  to  the  distant  regions  they  anticipated, 
than  Americus.  He  accej^ted  the  command,  pre- 
pared the  ships  for  a  long  voyage,  and  turned  their 
course  southward.  They  swept  swiftly  over  several 
hundred  leagues,  till  they  beheld,  with  astonishment, 
the  polar  star  and  the  surrounding  constellations  sink 
below  the  horizon,  and,  instead,  looked  upon  a  broad 
expanse  of  sky,  illumined  with  unknown  groups  of 
stars  that  bewildered  all  their  preconceived  ideas  of 
the  limited  circle  of  the  heavens  and  earth.  Ameri- 
cus reveled  and  luxuriated  in  the  magnificent  spec- 
tacle that  nightly  greeted  his  gaze.  The  studded 
canopy  seemed  slowly  to  unfurl  from  the  ocean's  hor- 
izon, revealing  hosts  of  brilliant  "  Canojn  "  of  which 
he  exultingly  and  carefully  took  note,  firmly  believ- 
ing that  this  great  and  unexpected  addition  to  astro- 
nomical science,  would  bequeath  his  name  to  immor- 
tality. 

Attracted  by  the  novelty,  and,  with  a  vague  hope  of 
exceeding  all  the  discoveries  of  the  age,  he  pressed 
forward  over  the  ruffled  sea,  till  the  light  caravels  had 
outsailed  the  serene  atmosphere  of  the  tropics  and 
emerged  into  a  region  of  cloud  and  storm,  that  tossed 
and  rocked  them  rudely  about,  and  finally  drifted  the 


AMEKICUS   VESrUCIUS. 


91 


frail  fleet  towards  wild,  barren  sliores,  whose  dreary 
aspect  held  out  no  promises  of  the  riches  they  sought 
The  cold  became  severe  ;  sleet  and  mists  blinded  the 
shivering    sailors,    and    the   Italian-born    Americns 
shrank  from  cold  star-gazing,  and  despaired  of  arri- 
ving, in  so  uncongenial  a  climate,  at  countries  which 
he  had  promised  himself  should  rival  the  wealth  of 
the  Indies.     He  gladly  yielded  his  temporary  com- 
mand to  the   '•  superior  captain,"  who  immediately 
gave  the  signal  to  turn  about,  and  steer  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Portugal.     Days  and  nights  of  darkness  and 
tempest  ensued  ;  numberless  vows  of  pilgrimage  were 
made  by  the  alarmed  mariners,  and  every  known 
charm  and  superstition  employed  to  subdue  the  angry 
waves.     At  length  they  moved  in  a  more  tranquil 
sea,  where  mild,  soft  breezes  filled  the  sails  and  waft- 
ed  the  voyagers  cheerily  onward  to  their  coveted 

homes. 

The  safe  arrival  of  the  weather-beaten  ships  at  Lis- 
bon, occasioned  unusual  manifestations  of  joy.  Loud 
acclamations  greeted  Americns  when  he  landed,  and 
die  enthusiastic  populace  accompanied  him  through 
the  streets  to  the  place  where  King  Emmanuel  await- 
ed him.  Magnificent  preparations  were  quickly 
made  to  honor  him  ;  sumptuous  entertainments  fol- 
lowed each  other  in  splendid  rivalry,  and  when  every 
ordinary  mode  of  distinction  was  exhausted,  the  ship 
In  which  he  had  sailed,  having  become  unseaworthy, 
was  taken  to  pieces,  and  portions  of  it  carried  in  sol- 
emn, pompous  piocession  to  a  church,  where,  with 


92  DISCOVERERS    A]SD   PIOI^JERS   OF    AJIERICA. 

much  ceremony,  they  were  suspended  as  revered  rel- 
ics. Intelligence  of  his  extensive  discoveries  was 
sent  by  royal  command  to  Italy,  where  similar  re- 
joicings occurred,  to  honor  the  success  of  a  proudly 
acknowledged  countryman.  His  family  at  Florence 
were  invested  with  honorable  dignities,  in  token  of 
regard  to  him. 

Americus  reposed  upon  his  laurels  but  a  few 
months,  at  Seville.  King  Emmanuel  was  too  ambi- 
tious to  compete  with  Spain  in  the  discovery  of  a 
passage  to  India,  to  permit  his  most  distinguished 
and  experienced  navigator  to  remain  idle.  A  new 
fleet  was  directly  fitted  out ;  the  command  of  one 
ship  was  given  to  Americus,  and  the  chief  command 
of  the  six  that  composed  the  squadron,  bestowed  upon 
Gonzalo  Coelho.  The  latter  proved  a  stubborn,  pre- 
sumptuous man  and  inexperienced  pilot.  As  soon 
as  the  fleet  had  sailed,  he  conceived  the  idea  of  di- 
verging from  the  intended  route  and  coasting  Sierra 
Leone,  though  in  opposition  to  the  united  wishes  of 
the  subordinate  officers,  and,  as  Yespucius  writes, 
"  without  there  being  any  necessity  for  it,  unless  to 
exhibit  himself  as  the  captain  of  six  vessels." 

A  severe  storm,  which  tejyt  them  at  bay  for  seve- 
ral days,  decided  Gonzalo  to  proceed  on  the  voyage, 
without  landing  on  the  coast  of  Africa.  They  sailed 
three  hundred  leagues  before  discovering  land. 
When  at  last  an  island  of  high,  dark-grey  rocks  rose 
from  the  sea,  before  them,  they  reconnoitred  it  with 
wonder.     Obstinately  determined  upon   a  near  ap 


AMEKICUS    VESPUCIIJS.  93 

proach,  Gonzalo  bore  down  upon  the  fatal  island. 
The  ship,  carried  forward  by  a  brisk  breeze,  struck 
with  violence  upon  a  rock,  which  split  her  from  stem 
to  stern,  and  she  instantly  sank  to  the  bottom  with 
everything  most  important  to  the  fleet.  The  captain 
and  crew  barely  had  time  to  escape. 

In  consequence  of  this  disaster,  Americus  was  ap- 
pointed to  go  in  search  of  a  safe  harbor,  but  Gonzalo 
retained  his  boat,  with  more  than  half  of  his  men,  for 
the  service  of  the  fleet.  He  was  successful  in  findincf 
a  good  harbor,  and  patiently  awaited  the  arrival  of 
the  remaining  ships.  Eight  days  passed  without 
sight  of  a  sail ;  the  crew  were  filled  with  anxiety  at 
the  thought  of  being  deserted,  or  the  more  fearful 
suggestion  that  their  companions  had  perished  ;  to  be 
left  alone  on  the  wide  ocean,  hundreds  of  leae-ues 
from  Lisbon,  and  in  a  vessel  but  half  manned,  was 
no  trifling  cause  of  fear.  Americus  could  not  con- 
sole the  terrified  crew,  and  was  at  a  loss  wliether  to 
venture  out  at  sea,  or  to  remain  longer  at  the  unin- 
habited and  dreary  island.  To  the  infinite  joy  and 
i-elief  of  all,  a  distant  sail  was  at  length  discovered, 
and,  fearing  lest  it  should  pass  without  perceivino- 
them,  Americus  ordered  tiie  ship  to  oe  put  to  sea. 

The  vessel  they  went  out  to  meet  prove^i  to  be  one 
of  the  fleet,  but  they  were  told  that  the  captain  had 
gone  to  the  bottom,  that  his  crew  had  been  saved, 
and  that  the  remaining  caravels  had  continued  the 
voyage.  Americus  was  disheartened  at  these  rever- 
ses of  fortune,  yet,  with  his  insnfiicient  crew,  deter- 


04  DISCOVEKERS    AJTD   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

mined  to  accompany  the  one  found  ship,  to  ulie  lands 
lie  had  discovered  on  his  previous  voyage.  Provi- 
dentially, they  had  fair  weather,  which  enabled  them 
to  reach  the  Bay  of  All  Saints  in  safety.  Americus 
then  awaited  the  expected  fleet  two  months,  but  no- 
thing being  seen  of  it,  he  ventured  to  ex23lore  the 
coast.  The  result  of  this  cruise  was  of  but  little  im- 
portance. The  caravels  were  anchored  in  a  favorable 
port,  a  fortress  was  built  on  shore,  and  provided  with  a 
garrison,  composed  of  Gonzalo's  rescued  crew ;  the 
ships  were  then  loaded  with  a  valuable  cargo  of  dye- 
wood,  and  made  readv  for  a  return  to  the  Old  World. 
The  sturdy  mariners,  who  had  been  saved  from  an 
ocean  grave  only  to  share  a  worse  fate  among  an  un- 
tamed race,  beheld  the  swelling  sails  bear  away  theii 
companions,  with  mingled  feelings  of  regret  and  ex- 
ultation, half  believing  they  should  never  be  reunited 
to  their  countrymen,  yet  buoyed  with  the  hope  of  re- 
turning to  Portugal  some  day,  loaded  with  Brazilian 
gems  and  gold.  But  their  voices,  that  flung  out  a 
farewell  to  the  departing  crews,  never  sent  up  a  ring- 
ins;  hail  of  welcome.  The  caravels  bounded  over  the 
foaming  ocean,  and  wave  after  wave  rolled  between 
them  and  the  shore,  concealing  forever  those  who 
gazed  after  the  disappearing  sails.  The  next  Euro- 
pean vessel  that  coasted  Brazil,  heard  only  the  shouts 
of  cannibal  savages,  along  the  beach  where  the  adven- 
tuiers  had  chosen  their  home. 

Yespucius  arrived  at  Lisbon,  after  a  long,  tempest- 
uous voyage.     The  inhabitants  were   filled  with  as 


.     AMEEICUS   VESPUCIUS.  95 

tonishment  at  beholding  liis  sliip  ancliored  in  the  baj, 
for  tidings  had  been  received  of  the  loss  of  the  whole 
fleet.     He  was  welcomed  as  one  risen  from  the  dead. 
Unbounded  rejoicings  attended  his  arrival,  but  he 
scarcely  waited  to  receive  the  honors  intended  for 
him,  in  his  impatience  to  return  to  Seville.     He  had 
been  installed  in  his  old  home  only  a  short  time, 
when  a  command  from  Ferdinand  summoned  him  to 
court.     The  death  of  the  revered  and  almost  wor- 
shiped queen,  about  the  time  of  the  arrival  of  Amer- 
icus  at  Lisbon,  had  a  far  different  effect  upon  his  for- 
tunes, than  upon  those  of  the  noble,  but  persecuted 
Columbus.     The  latter  was  protected  and  encouraged 
by  Isabella,  who  ever  recognized  genius,  and  venera- 
ted goodness.     An  upright,  pure,  exalted  soul  is  at- 
tracted to  its  kind,  with  an  unfailing  instinct,  and  in 
the  same  proportion  is  repelled  from  a  mean,  crafty 
spirit.     The  sincere,  lofty-minded  Columbus  had  the 
sympathy  of  the  good  and  just  Isabella,  in  spite  of 
the  barriers  which  scowlins^  confessors  and  bio-oted 
advisers  raised  between  them  ;  while  the  enmity  har- 
bored toward  him,  by  the  soulless  Ferdinand,  and 
the    intriguing    Fonseca,    was    indisputable.      That 
Americus  was  on  no  occasion  countenanced  by  Is- 
abella—  that  her  death  w^as  the  signal  of  his   return 
to  court,  and  of  his  immediate  promotion,  and  that  Fer- 
dinand  and   Fonseca   were   his  ready   sympathisers 
and  patrons,  from  the  first  —  disturbs  confidence  in 
his  integrity  of  character,  upon  which  the  strongest 
argument  for  the  reality  of  his  first  voyage  is  based. 


9G  DISCOYEREIiS    AND    PIOXEEES    OF   AMERICA. 

Columbus,  however,  who  w^as  also  at  Seville  at  this 
time,  confined  by  a  torturing  illness  of  body  and 
mind,  entertained  a  friendship  for  him,  and  names 
him  "  an  honorable  man."  He  had  sufficient  confi- 
dence in  him  to  entrust  the  pleading  of  his  cause  at 
court  to  his  discretion  and  eloquence  —  a  commission 
of  which  there  is  no  account  of  his  having  executed  ; 
also,  upon  the  departure  of  Americus  from  Seville,  in 
obedience  to  Ferdinand's  command,  he  gave  him  a 
letter  to  his  son,  Diego,  wherein  Columbus  mentioned 
his  rival  in  high  terms  of  commendation. 

Americus  immediately  set  out  for  Segovia,  whero 
the  Spanish  court  was  held.  Mounted  upon  his  mule, 
he  soon  left  behind  the  towering  walls  of  Seville, 
crossed  the  luxurious  plain  that  surrounds  it,  left  the 
windings  of  the  Guadalquiver,  and  was  soon  journey- 
ing over  the  cool  Sierra  Navada,  and  across  the  rich 
valleys  and  vineyard  slopes  beyond.  It  was  a  long, 
but  picturesque,  and  varied  journey,  from  Seville  to 
Segovia.  Wild,  rocky  districts,  and  strips  of  forest, 
intervened  with  villages,  hamlets,  convents,  and  cas- 
tles ;  streams  winding  down  from  the  mountains, 
plains  overrun  with  the  olive  or  grape-vine,  or  trees 
laden  with  delicious  fruit,  successively  greeted  the 
eye  of  the  traveler.  But  Americus  hastened  past 
them  all,  barely  resting  in  the  gloomy,  walled  towns 
which  lay  in  his  way,  and  speedily  pursued  his  route, 
anxious  and  doubtful  as  to  wiiat  awaited  him. 

His  uncivil  and  abrupt  departure  from  the  service 
of  Ferdinand,  several  years  previous,  might  justly 


AMERICUS    VESPUCIUS.  97 

have  given  oflence  to  a  king  who  demanded  the  most 
punctilious  etiquette  and  scrupulous  obedience.  But 
the  sio-ht  of  the  distant  turrets  of  the  Alcazar  of  Se- 
govia,  was  not  unwelcome.  He  traversed  the  plain 
of  Azoquejo,  and  passed  beneath  the  arches  of  the 
gigantic  aqueduct  of  Trajan,  thrown  across  it  to  the 
hill  upon  which  Segovia  is  perched  ;  then  over  the 
bridged  Eresma,  which  flows  at  the  base  of  the  hill, 
and  at  length  he  entered  the  gates  of  the  city. 

The  gayety  of  the  court  had  given  place  to  quie- 
tude and  marks  of  mourning  for  the  death  of  Isabella. 
Anxiety,  speculation,  and  uncertainty,  were  depicted 
upon  the  countenances  of  those  w^ho  had  looked  to 
her  for  the  interests  of  Oastile  ;  but  the  creatures  of 
Ferdinand,  mingled  a  secret  feeling  of  exultation  at 
the  removal  of  a  felt  restraint,  with  regret  for  the  loss 
of  a  universally  beloved  queen.  Americus  present- 
ed himself  at  this  sombre  court,  previously  assured 
of  the  favorable  intention  of  the  monarch.  Ferdinand 
received  him  graciously,  forgiving  the  marked  slight 
and  disrespect  of  his  past  conduct,  and,  not  only  con- 
gratulated him  upon  his  increasing  fame,  but  in  con- 
sideration of  his  former  services  to  the  crown,  made 
him  a  grant  of  twelve  thousand  marvedis,  and  issued 
letters  of  naturalization  in  his  behalf  He  was  thus 
qualified  to  serve  as  a  commander  in  the  service  of 
Spain. 

Ferdinand's  chief  object  in  thus  rewarding  him, 
was  to  secure  to  himself  the  services  of  one  of  ^'hc 
ablest  navigators   and  cosmographers   of  that   age, 
E  7 


98        discot:eeers  a^d  pioneers  of  America. 

whose  name  was  already  beginning  to  be  applied  to 
the  Brazilian  portion  of  the  ISTew  World.  Columbus 
had  grown  old  and  infirm,  and  had  just  gone  down  to 
the  grave  in  poverty,  obscurity,  and  grief,  at  his  un- 
rewarded and  unacknowledged  toil.  His  withheld 
honors  were  heaped  upon  Americus. 

Having  made  sure  of  his  services,  Ferdinand  im- 
mediately gave  orders  for  preparations  for  a  new  ex- 
pedition to  Brazil.  Yincente  Yanez  Pinzon,  one  of 
the  three  brothers  who  assisted  Columbus  in  his  first 
voyage,  was  appointed  associate  commander.  The 
fleet  was  to  consist  of  two  large  ships,  and  a  caravel^ 
to  serve  as  tender  to  the  others.  Americus  depart- 
ed for  Palos,  to  consult  with  Pinzon,  upon  arrange- 
ments for  the  enterprize ;  both,  for  several  months, 
were  wholly  engaged  in  collecting  provisions  and 
equipment  for  the  voyage  ;  but,  whichever  way  they 
turned,  difficulties  retarded  all  their  preparations. 

The  amval  of  Philip  and  Joanna  in  Spain,  and 
their  accession  to  the  throne  of  Castile,  occasioned  an 
entire  change  in  all  the  departments  of  government. 
The  interests  of  the  kingdoms  of  Castile  and  Aragon 
were  united,  but  the  disagreement  of  the  respective 
sovereigns,  Ferdinand  and  Philip,  rendered  the  posi- 
tion of  the  governmental  officers  extremely  embarrass- 
ing. The  board  of  trade,  entrusted  with  the  afiairs 
of  the  new  expedition,  could  adopt  no  further  meas- 
ures for  its  completion,  lest  either  monarch  should  be 
offended.  Perplexed  and  annoyed  at  the  delay, 
Americus  went  to  Burgos,  where  the  court  was  then 


AMERICUS    VESPUCIUS.  99 

held,  to  lay  documents,  from  the  board,  befoic  Ferdi- 
nand, and  to  obtain  peremptory  measures  for  the 
completion  of  the  armament.  He  had  scarcely  arrived, 
when  the  sudden  death  of  King  Philip  was  proclaim- 
ed in  the  streets  of  Burgos.  This  unexpected  occur- 
rence suspended  all  public  undertakings.  The  inca- 
pacity of  the  insane  Joanna  to  succeed  him,  and  the 
unpopularity  of  Ferdinand  in  Castile,  occasioned  con- 
fusion throughout  the  kingdom.  The  remaining 
monarch  had  neither  time  nor  inclination  to  attend 
to  other  than  internal  affairs ;  Americus  was,  there- 
fore, unheard. 

Soon  after,  complaints  and  suspicions,  on  the  part 
of  the  King  of  Portugal,  in  regard  to  the  destination 
of  the  fleet,  decided  Ferdinand  to  abandon  the  expe- 
dition entirely,  as  his  dominions  were  not  in  a  condi- 
tion to  get  embroiled  with  a  jealous  neighbor.  This 
decision  was  a  severe  disappointment  to  Americus. 
The  useless  outlay  of  a  large  capital,  and  the  lost  ex- 
penditure of  labor  and  thought,  on  his  own  part,  was 
sufficiently  annoying,  to  say  nothing  of  the  sudden 
check  to  his  ambition. 

Several  months  afterwards,  he,  together  with  Juan 
de  la  Cosa,  was  ordered  to  attend  court  to  consult 
with  Ferdinand  and  his  ministers,  in  regard  to  the 
marine  affairs  of  the  nation.  lie  engaged  in  no  new 
expeditions,  but  was  employed  by  the  government  on 
several  embassies,  for  which  he  received  fair  remu- 
neration. The  remaining  years  of  his  life  were  em- 
ployed in   equipping  ships  which   were   plying  be- 


100         DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

tween  the  old  and  the  new  dominions,  and  in  the 
burdensome  duties  that  resulted  from  his  appointment 
to  the  office  of  chief  pilot.  In  this  capacity,  he  re- 
ceived an  annual  salary  of  seventy-five  thousand  mar- 
vedis.  His  time  was  fully  engaged  in  these  occupa- 
tions, for  every  year  increased  the  tide  of  emigration, 
that  was  flowing  towards  the  shores  of  America.  At 
Seville,  where  Yespucius  resided,  the  effects  of  the 
enthusiasm  for  the  "land  of  pearls,"  were  plainly 
visible  in  the  nearly  deserted  streets ;  it  is  said  that 
few  were  to  be  seen  there  beside  women  and  children. 

Nothing  is  known  of  the  last  days  of  Americus, 
further  than  that  he  expired  the  22d  of  February, 
1512.  The  place  of  his  decease  and  burial  still  re- 
mains a  subject  of  dispute.  Whether  his  unrecorded 
grave  lies  in  the  tombs  of  his  native  city,  or  whether 
he  rests  in  humble  obscurity  at  Seville,  or  is  lost 
among  the  countless  inmates  of  the  sepulchres  beneath 
the  old  chapels  and  massive  cathedrals,  is  of  little  mo- 
ment, so  long  as  a  shadow  rests  upon  his  name. 
When  proofs  of  the  honesty  of  his  claims  are  found 
by  some  industrious  historian,  among  the  mouldering 
chronicles  of  ancient  Spain,  it  will  be  time  to  seek  for 
his  grave,  and  gather  his  ashes  to  honorable  repose. 

It  is  as  unaccountable  as  it  is  apparently  undeserv- 
ed, that  his  name  should  have  been  given  to  this  con- 
tinent. It  is  supposed  by  some,  that  in  constructing 
charts,  Americus  applied  his  own  name  to  that  por- 
tion of  the  southern  continent  known  as  Brazil,  with- 
out ft  6urr\isf^  of  the  extensive  signification  it  would 


AMERICU3   VESPUCIDS.  101 

rinally  attain.  He  often  expressed  a  wisli  in  his  let- 
ters, that  his  name  should  live  after  him.  Such  a 
desire  mis^ht  have  induced  him  to  assert  his  first  dis- 
covery  of  Paria,  and  afterwards  apply  his  name  to 
that,  and  the  adjoining  countries  he  explored.  The 
present  use  of  it  was  not  made  till  full  half  a  century 
after  his  death. 

Americus  possessed  none  of  the  brilliant  character- 
istics that  made  heroes  of  many  of  his  compeers. 
There  was  nothing  imposing  in  his  personal  appear- 
ance, nothing  startling  or  attractive  in  his  address, 
and  no  prominent,  bold  qualities  upon  which  to 
swing  the  title  of  bravado.  He  was  enterprising, 
persevering,  and  ambitious  ;  philosophic,  unimagina- 
tive, and  without  superstition  ;  sensitive,  but  calm 
and  reserved.  His  opinions,  therefore,  were  based 
upon  thorough  investigation  and  deliberate  thought, 
and  his  plans  unobtrusively,  but  steadily,  carried  out. 
His  religion  was  divested  of  the  ceremonies  peculiai 
to  the  age  ;  he  seemed  to  regard  with  pity,  the  ebulli- 
tions of  devotion  that  every  storm  at  sea  occasioned 
among  the  mariners,  and  the  consequent  vows  they 
incurred.  His  own  religious  emotions  were  evinced 
in  direct  acknowledgments  to  the  Supreme  Being,  for 
daily  mercies. 

His  name,  in  this  age,  rests  with  a  family  of  five, 
three  of  whom  live  in  an  obscure  street  of  Florence, 
oppressed  by  poverty,  and  almost  unknown.  One 
sister  recently  gained  her  own  support  in  Paris,  and 
another,  the  prodigal  Ellena,  is  well  known  to  laavo 


102  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

dishonorably  rej)resented  her  family  in  America. 
Disappointment  and  misfortune  have  attended  the 
descendants  of  Yespucius,  and  they  do  not  yet  behold 
the  recognition  of  his  claims,  by  the  nation  which 
bears  his  name.  The  Providence  that  so  often  de- 
crees justice  to  the  dead,  even  after  the  lapse  of  cen- 
turies, has  appointed  to  the  neglected,  robbed,  and 
crushed  Columbus,  an  honored  tomb  beneath  cathe- 
dral arches,  and  a  fame  that  brightens  with  time  ; 
while  to  Americus  is  given  an  unknown  grave,  and 
a  renown  inseparably  connected  with  a  continent, 
but  unenviable,  gathering,  as  it  does,  the  reproaches 
and  disputes  of  each  succeeding  generation. 


III. 

FEDINAND  DE  SOTO. 

The  accession  of  Charles  Y.  to  tlie  Spanisli  throne, 
gave  fresh  impetus  to  the  spirit  of  discovery  already 
rife  on  the  continent.  The  honors  and  rewards  which 
he  lavishly  showered,  awakened  the  genius,  courage 
and  amhition  of  his  subjects. 

The  love  of  Quixotic  adventure,  and  the  almost 
frantic  search  after  sudden  fame  and  fortune,  that  had 
been  quickened  by  the  knightly  and  romantic  achieve- 
ments under  the  banners  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 
turned  from  the  exhausted  novelties  of  Europe,  and 
readily  obeyed  the  new  impetus,  spanned  the  "  Great 
Ocean,"  and  rooted  itself  in  the  vast  plains  of  the 
"New  World.  It  sprang  from  the  rank  soil  to  a  lord- 
ly height,  cast  its  branches  far  and  wide,  and  bore 
golden  fruit  that  enticed  thousands  to  pluck  and  taste  ; 
but  death  and  desolation  lay  under  its  shadow,  and 
sweet  poison  lurked  in  the  tempting  fruit. 

Perfidious  and  cruel  conquerors  robbed  the  Mexi- 
can and  Peruvian  Incas  of  their  glory,  and,  in  their 
turn,  became  the  victims  of  envious  or  avaricious  fol- 
lowers.     While  they  despoiled  the  southern  cities, 


104         DI3COVP:rER5    AXD    PIOXEERS    of   AMERICA. 

other  adventurers  extended  the  desolating  search  af- 
ter gold  and  glory,  over  the  wilds  of  Florida.  Ponce 
de  Leon  had  opened  the  way  to  its  blooming  coasts, 
while  seeking  for  the  fahled  fountain,  whose  waters 
might  restore  youth  to  his  veteran  face  and  whitened 
locks.  But  he  reaped  the  seeds  of  death,  rather  than 
the  bloom  of  immortality.  Ayllon  closely  pursued 
his  track,  dealt  treacherously  with  the  natives,  and  re- 
ceived treachery  in  return.  ITarvaez  next  hunted 
over  the  same  wilderness,  for  golden  cities  like  those 
of  the  South.  He  struggled  vainly  through  wild  mo- 
rasses, left  more  than  half  his  companions  dead  upon 
the  route,  and,  after  a  long,  painful  and  bewildered 
wandering,  succeeded  in  regaining  the  sea-shore,  only 
to  be  swept  away  to  an  ocean  grave.  The  few  who 
finally  returned  to  Spain,  persisted  in  declaring,  like 
all  who  had  preceded  them,  that  "Florida  is  the 
richest  country  in  the  world." 

Enticed  by  these  repeated  accounts  of  its  exhaust- 
less  wealth,  the  brilliant  De  Soto  equipped  an  army, 
which  exceeded  the  forces  that  had  ravaged  Peru, 
and,  with  it,  penetrated  the  tangled  forests  that 
stretched  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Mississippi.  Like 
those  who  had  gone  before,  the  well-armed  host  dwin- 
dled away  to  a  feeble,  insignificant  number,  and  their 
commander  received  a  secret  burial  in  the  waters  of 
the  "  Great  Eiver." 

As  the  discoverer  of  the  Mississippi,  and  as  the  as- 
sociate conqueror  of  Peru,  De  Soto  stands  prominent 
among  the  pioneers  of  America.     He  possessed  the 


FERDINAND   DE   SOTO.  105 

heroic  qualities  of  Pizarro  and  Cortez,  witliout  their 
atrocious  cruelty,  and  as  much  of  true  greatness  as 
can  be  found  amoug  the  illustrious  of  that  age,  a  very 
few  excepted. 

There  is  nothing  to  record  of  the  youth  of  De  Soto. 
lie  was  of  respectable,  but  undistinguished  parentage, 
and  a  native  of  Xerez,  in  the  southern  portion  of  the 
province  of  Estremadura  —  a  province  more  remark- 
able for  its  rugged  aspect  than  anything  else.  Born 
and  reared  where  mountains  bounded  the  horizon, 
where  roads  led  among  steep,  jutting  rocks,  and  where 
every  ramble  led  him  through  wild  passes  or  along 
the  banks  of  swift  rivers,  it  is  not  surprising  that  the 
national  characteristic  of  indolence  should,  in  him, 
have  given  way  to  an  unusual  degree  of  energy  and 
boldness. 

The  tales,  too,  of  the  splendid  exploits  of  his  pro- 
vincial countrymen  among  the  mountains  of  Anda- 
lusia, must  have  had  an  influence  upon  the  ambitious 
and  spirited  youth.  The  Estremadurans  are  a  grave, 
taciturn  people,  inoft'ensive  in  peace,  but  indefatiga- 
ble in  war.  They  had  formed  the  most  reliable  de- 
tachments in  Eerdinand's  army,  and  were  deservedly 
renowned  for  their  skillful  horsemanship.  The  fanae 
of  their  achievements  was  increased  rather  than  di- 
minished by  repetition,  and  when  De  Soto  listened, 
he  lono^ed  to  imitate  his  favorite  heroes  and  attain  a 

CD 

like  celebrity. 

Mingled  with  these  fascinating  tales  of  the  past, 

were  exciting  rumors  of  discovery  and  adventure  in 

E* 


10<>  DISCOVERERS    AJsD    PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA. 

lands  which  gave  more  brilliant  promise,  than  the  re« 
gions  portrayed  in  Oriental  legends.  Tlie  enthusiasm 
to  embark  in  the  novel  enterprises,  spread  from,  palace 
to  cottage,  from  valley  hamlet  to  the  most  remote 
mountain  village.  Even  the  grave  Estremadurans 
caught  at  the  enticing  hopes,  and  sallied  forth  from 
their  isolated  homea,  to  swell  the  irrepressible  tide 
that  was  rolling  towards  the  distant  shores  of  the  new 
continent. 

In  these  hazardous  expeditions,  De  Soto  beheld  the 
opportunity  to  distinguish  himself,  for  which  he  had 
longed.  He  had  no  fortune,  no  blazoned  title,  no  im- 
posing equipments  to  secure  him  a  prominent  position 
among  the  forces  that  crowded  every  westward-bound 
caravel.  Contented  with  only  his  sword  and  buckler, 
w^hich  he  knew  well  how  to  wield,  confident  in  his 
long-practiced  martial  exercises,  courageous,  perseve- 
ring and  prudent,  he  embarked  for  the  Indies  in 
search  of  long-coveted  honor  and  wealth. 

Peter  Arias,  a  Castilian  earl,  was  then  Governor 
of  the  Indies.  His  notice  was  soon  attracted  to  the 
valorous  De  Soto,  and  perceiving  his  excellent  horse- 
manship, and  capability  to  command,  appointed  him 
captain  of  a  troop  of  horsemen,  and  sent  him  to  join 
Pizarro,  who  was  pressing  his  victorious  march  to 
the  very  heart  of  Peru.  He  was  there  received  with 
equal  readiness  into  the  favor  of  the  conqueror. 

It  was  he  who  was  selected  to  bear  the  perilous 
embassy  from  Pizarro  to  the  Peruvian  Inca,  in  the 
midst  of  his  camp.     "With  a  few  well-mounted  follow 


FEEDINAND    DE   SOTO.  107 

evs,  he  daslied  over  tlie  plain,  and  would  fearlessly 
nave  entered  the  Indian  camp,  that  covered  an  im- 
mense area  with  its  white  tents,  and  teemed  with 
athletic  and  cunning  warriors,  who  might  at  any  mo- 
ment prove  perfidious.  Pizarro  regretted  the  rash- 
ness, and  sent  his  brother  Hernando  with  a  small  de- 
tachment of  cavalry,  to  join  De  Soto.  They  together 
approached  the  royal  pavilion,  where  Atahualpa  was 
surrounded  by  royal  attendants,  attired  in  the  rude 
splendor  of  barbaric  sovereignty. 

The  stoical  monarch  received  the  Spaniards  with- 
out a  change  of  feature,  though  he  and  his  people  be- 
held, for  the  first  time,  the  strange  and  evidently  su- 
perior comers  from  an  unknown  world.  Without  dis- 
mounting, Hernando  saluted  the  Inca,  informed  him 
of  the  pacific  intentions  of  the  Spaniards,  and  invited 
him  to  sup  with  Pizarro  the  following  day.  The 
grave,  dignified  prince  maintained  a  marble  com- 
posure, scarcely  deigned  a  glance  at  the  showily 
costumed  visitors,  and  sat  in  profound  silence.  "  It 
IS  well,"  at  last  said  an  Indian  noble  who  stood  at  his 
side.  Hernando  respectfully  demanded  a  reply  from 
the  prince  himself,  which  he  presently  received  in  a 
tone  that  assured  him  of  the  conscious  power  and  su- 
premacy of  the  laconic  sovereign. 

De  Soto  was  near,  mounted  on  a  fiery  war-horse, 
which  impatiently  pawed  the  ground  and  champed 
the  bits.  He  easily  governed  its  movements,  while  he 
watched  the  Inca  with  intense  interest  and  admira- 
tion.    He  was  unprepared  for  such  an  exhibition  o^ 


108  DISC0\^ERER3   AND    nONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

courtier-like  indifference,  and  stately,  proud  compo 
sure,  among  a  race  which  had  elsewhere  bowed  be 
fore  them  in  awe,  and  acknowledged  weakness.  A 
single  glance  from  Atahualpa  at  his  splendid  charger, 
was  enough  to  suggest  to  De  Soto  a  display  of  his 
masterly  skill.  Giving  free  rein,  he  dashed  furiously 
across  the  plain,  wheeled  about,  exhibiting  the  grace- 
ful evolutions  of  his  steed,  and  returned  to  the  pres- 
ence of  the  unmoved  Inca  in  long  leaps,  that  made 
the  Indian  soldiers  shrink  back  as  he  dashed  past 
them.  Atahualpa  still  maintained  his  gravity  and 
his  silence,  but  thenceforward,  he  and  De  Soto  held 
each  other  in  mutual  admiration. 

A  few  days  after,  the  haughty,  but  strangely  unsus- 
pecting monarch  was  a  captive  in  his  own  city.  He 
soon  perceived  the  avaricious  spirit  of  the  Spaniards, 
and  availed  himself  of  it  to  attempt  his  ransom.  He 
offered  to  cover  the  floor  of  his  prison  chamber  with 
plates  of  gold.  Pizarro,  and  those  who  stood  with 
him,  looked  incredulous.  The  royal  captive  rose,  his 
Indian  stoicism  overcome  by  the  strong  hope  of  lib- 
erty. His  handsome  countenance  gleamed  with  ea- 
gerness, and  his  e3^es  looked  out  fiercely  from  the 
crimson  and  gold  fringe  of  the  imperial  horla,  that 
still  encircled  his  temples.  He  slowly  extended  his 
arms  from  beneath  his  mantle  of  soft  wool,  and,  draw- 
ing himself  up  to  his  greatest  height,  told  them  he 
would  thus  fill  the  room  with  gold.  Nay,  the  adjoin- 
ing apartment  should  be  twice  filled  with  silver,  also. 
It  was  too  much  for  the  c^old-seekers  to  withstand. 


FERDINAND   DE   SOTO.  109 

Tlie  danger  they  would  incur  in  restoring  his  freedom, 
and  permitting  him  to  reorganize  his  armies,  was 
nothing  to  the  coveted  prize.  The  treacherous  Pi- 
zarro  secretly  promised  himself  to  secure  both  the 
gold  and  the  life  of  the  Inca,  and,  accordingly,  he 
drew  a  red  mark  across  the  wall,  which  indicated  the 
limits  of  the  golden  pile,  and  was  also  a  seal  of  the 
compact. 

The  two  months  allowed  for  its  fulfillment  passed, 
and,  though  the  Peruvians  had  laid  a  magnificent 
ransom  at  the  feet  of  the  conquerors,  Pizarro  still 
refused  the  Inca's  liberty.  Atahualpa  expostulated 
with  his  captors,  and,  from  the  first,  attracted  to  De 
Soto,  besought  his  interference.  The  injustice  and 
perfidy  of  the  detention  was  evident  enough  to  the 
friendly  cavalier,  who  immediately  laid  the  demands 
of  the  captive  monarch  before  his  commander.  He 
was  unheeded. 

A  rumor  was  soon  after  afioat  among  the  soldiery, 
that  the  natives  meditated  an  attack,  and  that  Ata- 
hualpa was  the  secret  instigator  of  the  movement. 
It  was  said  that  an  immense  army  was  already  on  the 
march.  Atahualpa  asserted  his  innocence,  and  the 
falsity  of  the  rumor.  Willing  to  catch  at  a  plausible 
pretext  for  his  death,  Pizarro  revolved  a  plan  in  his 
own  mind  w^hich  he  immediately  put  into  execution. 

De  Soto  was  selected  to  head  a  detachment  to  re- 
connoitre the  country,  ar^d  ascertain  the  truth  of  the 
exciting  reports.  His  fearlessness  in  danger,  and  the 
courage  and  devotion  which  he  never  failed  to  inspire 


110  DISCO YEEERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

in  those  who  followed  him,  influenced  his  appoint- 
ment.  He  was  willing  to  find  proof  of  the  fallen 
monarch's  innocence,  and  Pizarro  was  eqnallj  wil- 
ling to  rid  himself  of  the  presence  of  Atahualpa's 
warmest  champion,  till  the  meditated  execution  was 
over.  De  Soto  had  scarcely  gone,  when  a  trial  was 
instituted  against  the  Inca.  The  few  voices  raised  in 
his  defense  availed  him  nothing.  Though  no  proofs 
of  his  guilt  could  be  found,  though  he  and  his  people 
had  ofi*ered  the  intruders  nothing  but  kindness,  though 
they  had  freely  yielded  up  their  treasures,  it  was  de- 
cided by  the  valued  opinion  of  Father  Yalverde,  the 
principal  priest,  that,  "  at  all  events  the  Inca  deserved 
death  ! " 

The  tears,  the  pleadings,  and  the  reproaches  of 
Atahualpa  were  disregarded.  When,  at  last,  he  per- 
ceived that  he  had  no  power  to  deter  his  unprincipled 
and  ungrateful  conquerors  from  their  design,  he  bowed 
himself  in  silence,  and  yielded  to  his  ignominious 
fate  with  the  sullen  courage  of  an  Indian  chieftain. 

De  Soto  returned  with  ample  evidence  of  Atahu- 
alpa's truth,  two  or  three  days  after  the  execution  of 
that  liberal  and  confiding  prince.  He  came  to  an- 
nounce, exultingly,  the  innocence  of  the  man  whose 
good  faith  he  had  guarantied,  but  he  was  met  with 
the  tidings  of  his  unhappy  fate.  Too  indignant  to 
regard  the  superior  position  of  his  commander,  he 
hastened  to  his  presence,  and  boldly  denounced  his 
dishonorable  measures.  Pizarro,  with  a  mock  so- 
lemnity that  could  not  deceive  the  most  credulous. 


FEKDINAND   DE    SOTO.  Ill 

exhibited  in  Liis  dress  and  deportment,  all  the  signs  of 
sorrow,  wearing  '^  a  great  felt  hat,  by  way  of  mourn- 
ing, slouched  over  his  eyes." 

"You  have  acted  rashly,"  said  De  Soto,  angrily 
and  bluntly  ;  "  Atahual^m  has  been  basely  slandered. 
There  was  no  enemy  at  Guamachucho ;  no  rising 
amono-  the  natives.  I  have  met  with  nothing  on  the 
road  but  demonstrations  of  good-will,  and  all  is  quiet. 
If  it  was  necessary  to  bring  the  Inca  to  trial,he  should 
have  been  taken  to  Castile  and  judged  by  the  Empe- 
ror. I  would  have  pledged  myself  to  have  seen  him 
safe  on  board  the  vessel."  The  guilty  Pizarro  con- 
fessed his  rashness,  but  it  was  too  late  to  recall  the 
deed,  and  there  were  few  to  lament  it,  since  it  secured 
the  subjugation  of  Peru,  and  left  her  cities  open  to 
their  ravages. 

The  imperial  city  of  Cusco  was  rifled  of  its  treas- 
ures.    Sheets  of  gold  were  torn  from  the  walls  of  the 
temples ;  idols,  and  ornaments  of  exquisite  workman- 
ship were  appropriated  in  the  name  of  their  sover- 
eio-n,  too-ether  with  s^olden  vases  embossed  with  fig- 
ures  and    flowers,  goblets  wreathed    with    graceful 
vines  and  delicately  wrought  imitations    of  plants, 
among  which  was  the  Indian  corn.     Its  golden  ear 
was  sheathed  in  long,  silver  leaves,  and  tassels  of  the 
same  metal  hung  from  their  close  enfoldings.     The 
most  elaborate  specimens  were  selected  for  the  Em- 
peror's fifth,  and  the  rest  reduced  to  ingots  of  a  uni- 
form value,  by  the  Indian  goldsmiths,  in  order  to 
make  an  equal  division  of  the  spoil.     When  Pizarro 


112       discovp:rer3  and  pioneers  of  America. 

bestowed  upon  eacli  of  liis  followers  their  sliare,  lie 
"  invoked  tlie  assistance  of  Heaven  to  do  the  work 
before  him  conscientiously  and  justly  ;  "  a  manifesta- 
tion of  piety,  of  equal  genuineness  with  that  which 
prompted  him  to  join  Father  Yalverde,  in  muttering 
credos  for  the  departing  soul  of  Atahualpa. 

"When  De  Soto  was  ready  to  return  to  Spain,  he 
was  in  possession  of  "  a  hundred  and  four  score  thou- 
sand ducats,"  and  the  reputation  of  having  surpassed 
"  all  other  captains  and  principal  persons  "  in  Pizar- 
ro's  army.  He  withdrew  from  Peru,  when  his  sagac- 
ity foresaw  the  result  of  the  bickerings  and  jealousy 
daily  increasing  among  the  troops.  The  fame  for 
which  he  had  encountered  danger,  was  his  ;  and  the 
riches  that  had  decoyed  him  from  home,  were  now  in 
his  grasp.  He  stood  upon  a  height  from  which  he 
could  look  down  upon  the  world,  and  could  extend 
the  hand  of  fellowship  to  those  of  noble  birth,  the 
hem  of  whose  garment  he  could  scarcely  have  touched, 
when  he  left  Spain,  a  poor  adventurer. 

The  wealth,  prudently  economized  during  his  Pe- 
ruvian campaign,  he  freely  lavished  when  he  re- 
touched the  shores  of  his  native  land.  As  if  to  re- 
venge himself  upon  his  early  poverty,  he  provided 
for  his  use  a  retinue  as  imposing  and  expensive,  as  tho 
most  arrogant  noble  could  boast ;  attended  court,  re- 
ceived a  flattering  welcome  from  the  Emperor,  and 
occupied  a  position  as  prominent  and  commanding 
as  the  wildest  dreams  of  his  ambitious  boyhood  could 
have  suggested. 


FERDINAI^D    DE    SOTO.  113 

Strong  in  his  success,  he  boldly  claimed  the  hand 
of  Donna  Isabella  de  Bobadilla,  the  daughter  of  the 
Earl  whom  he  had  served  in  the  Indies.  He  was  no 
longer  an  humble  suitor,  but  proudly  felt  that  he  be- 
stowed as  much  honor  as  he  received,  in  accepting 
the  bride,  whose  high  birth  he  had  striven  to  balance 
by  the  renown  and  gold  he  threw  into  the  scale. 

He  reached  the  goal  of  his  youthful  imaginings  — 
fame,  wealth  and  love ;  but,  so  far  from  finding  con- 
tentment and  repose,  his  restless  s-pirit  chafed  to  wing 
its  flight  beyond  the  exalted  heights  reached  by  the 
heroes  of  his  time,  l^othing  w^ould  satisfy  him  but 
to  conquer  a  province,  and  reveal  to  the  world  cities 
in  the  heart  of  a  wilderness,  boasting  as  mysterious  a 
civilization  as  those  to  which  Cortez  and  Pizarro  had 
cut  their  way.  All  Europe  believed  that  wealthy  na- 
tions peopled  the  northern  continent,  beyond  the 
wilds  of  the  Atlantic  coast,  and  the  brilliant,  but 
strangely  exaggerated  accounts  returned  by  every  ex- 
pedition,  confirmed  the  surmise. 

Inflamed  by  the  reports  concerning  Florida,  De 
Soto  applied  to  the  Emperor  for  its  government,  and 
pledged  himself  to  conquer  it  at  his  own  cost.  Charles 
Y.  was  not  chary  of  his  gifts,  and,  willing  to  reward 
De  Soto  generously,  invested  him  with  the  titles  of 
Governor  of  Cuba,  and  Marquis  Adelantado,  or  Pres- 
ident of  Florida,  which  name  v/as  applied  to  an  im 
mense  and  undefined  extent  of  territory. 

The  news  that  one  of  the  famed  conquerors  of  Peru 
was  about  to  undertake  an  independent  expedition, 

8 


tl4:         DISCOYEEEES    AND    PIONEERS    OF   AMEEICA. 

produced  an  excitement  that  extended  even  to  Por- 
tugal. ]\Ien  of  high  titles  and  large  possessions,  en- 
gaged in  the  enterprise,  and  those  who  could  not 
otherwise  raise  the  necessary  funds,  sold  their  houses, 
vineyards,  olive  plantations,  and  towns  of  vassals,  and 
repaired  to  Seville,  in  readiness  to  accompany  the 
Adelantado.  A  company  of  Portuguese,  from  San 
Lucar,  visited  De  Soto,  to  offer  the  services  of  some 
of  their  countrymen.  They  found  him  at  Seville, 
where  he  received  them  in  the  si^acious  court  of  his 
residence,  conducting  them  to  the  galleries  above  it, 
and  entertained  them  at  his  sumptuous  board,  with 
''  show  of  great  contentment." 

De  Soto  demanded  an  assemblage  of  all  who  de- 
sired to  accompany  him,  to  be  made  at  San  Lucar,  a 
town  near  the  mouth  of  the  Guadal quiver,  and  just 
u]3on  the  confines  of  Portugal  and  the  kingdom  of 
Seville.  A  general  muster  was  ordered,  upon  which 
"  the  Portuguese  showed  themselves  armed  in  very 
bright  armor,  and  the  Castilians  very  gallant  with 
silk  upon  silk,  with  many  pinkings  and  cuts,"  as  is 
related  by  the  chronicler.  The  gay  accoutrements, 
that  might  have  made  a  European  army  dazzling, 
were  little  fitted  for  the  rude  campaigns  of  the  unciv- 
ilized continent.  The  experienced  captain  assured 
them  tliat  "  braveries  in  such  an  action  did  not  like 
him,"  and  dismissed  them  to  prepare  for  hardy  ser- 
vice. 

At  lengtli,  six  hundred  picked  men  were  equipped 
in  burnishGd  mail,  well  armed,  and  finely  mounted. 


FERDINAND   DE   SOTO. 


115 


Scores  were  refused,  altliougli  they  had  disposed  of 
their  estates,  to  defray  expenses  ;  the  number  ah-eady 
exceeded  the  provisions  made  for  the  expedition. 
Donna  IsabeUa  accompanied  De  Soto,  and  several  of 
the  wives  of  noblemen  on  board,  also  consented  to 

embark. 

Early  in  1538,  the  fleet  set  sail,  with  as  gay  and 
hopeful  a  crowd  of  adventurers  as  ever  committed 
themselves  to  the  winds.  Banners  floated,  armor 
flashed,  trumpets  sounded,  and  heavy  ordnance  was 
dischar2;ed,  to  give  vent  to  their  exuberant  spirits. 
After  the  usual  experience  of  storms  and  calms,  the 
fleet  touched  at  the  Canaries,  where  the  voyagers 
were  honorably  received  by  an  earl  of  one  of  the 
islands,  "appareled  all  in  white,  cloak,  jerkin,  hose, 
shoes,  and  cap,  so  that  he  seemed  a  lord  of  the  Gip- 
sies." The  ships  were  here  freshly  provisioned,  and, 
after  a  week  of  rest,  De  Soto  steered  for  his  new 

provinces. 

Their  arrival  a.t  Cuba  was  the  signal  for  a  succes- 
sion of  festivals,  and  brilliant  entertainments.  De 
Soto  immediately  despatched  two  ships  to  seek  a  safe 
harbor  on  the  Florida  coast.  Upon  their  return,  with 
two  Indian  captives,  who  communicated  by  signs, 
that  their  country  contained  mines  of  the  precious 
metal,  the  troops  became  impatient  to  set  out  for  the 
new  land.  The  infection  spread  to  such  a  degree 
among  the  Cubans,  that,  with  others,  Yasco  Porcallo, 
an  old  man,  lavished  all  his  wealth  npon  magnificent 
preparations  to  accompany   De   Soto.     Grey  haired 


11()  DISCOVEEEKS   AND    PIOKEEES   OF   AMEEICA. 

veterans    were    as    readily   infatuated   as   headlong 
youths. 

De  Soto  bade  adieu  to  his  beautiful  young  wife, 
whom  he  was  destined  never  again  to  behold,  left  her 
in  command  of  the  island,  and  sailed  for  Florida,  the 
eighteenth  of  May,  1539,  with  a  fleet  of  eighteen 
ships.  A  few  days  brought  them  to  the  Bay  of  Spir- 
itu  Santo,  where  they  eagerly  disembarked.  They 
beheld,  with  some  misgiving,  the  low,  marshy  shores, 
the  occasional  savannas  of  tall,  strong  grass,  and  the 
dreary  pine  barrens,  with  their  thriving  undergrowth 
of  palmettos.  The  dismal  aspect  was  relieved  by 
the  gorgeously  colored  flowers,  that  made  the  air 
heavy  with  rich  perfume,  and  was  enlivened  by  the 
songs  and  the  flitting,  to  and  fro,  of  the  blue  jay,  the 
flaming  oriole,  the  cheerful  red-breast,  and  the  melo- 
dious warblings  of  the  mocking  bird. 

Anticipating  a  rich  soil,  and  an  inhabited  interior, 
of  nnequaled  magnificence,  from  the  showy  luxuri- 
ance of  what  they  saw,  and  unwilling  to  note  the  un- 
promising hammucks  that  characterized  the  country^ 
they  formed  a  gay  cavalcade,  and  commenced  the 
toilsome  wandering  in  a  wilderness,  from  which  they 
never  could  escape.  The  ships  were  returned  to  Ha- 
vana, that  none  might  be  induced  to  turn  back  —  a 
measure  which  so  alarmed  the  aged  Porcallo,  that  he 
refused  to  enter  the  suspicious  wilds,  and  returned 
with  the  fleet  to  Cuba. 

The  exploring  army  was  composed  of  a  large  body 
of  cavalry  and  foot-soldiers,  twelve  priests,  who  scru- 


FERDINAND    DE    SOTO.  117 

pulously  imposed  every  religious  observance,  and  two 
or  three  Indian  guides.  Among  the  latter  was  an  in- 
terpreter, named  John  Ortiz.  He  was  a  native  of 
Spain,  and  had  been  taken  captive  by  the  Indians, 
while  traversing  Florida  with  ISTarvaez.  Ucita,  the 
w^arrior  in  whose  hands  he  had  fallen,  condemned 
him  to  be  burned,  with  all  the  lingering  horrors  in- 
flicted by  Indian  cruelty ;  but  the  daughter  of  the 
chieftain  —  another  Pocahontas — plead  for  his  life, 
and  for  her  sake  he  was  unbound,  and  adopted  in  the 
tribe.  A  short  time  before  the  landing  of  De  Soto, 
he  had  fallen  under  the  displeasure  of  Ucita,  and  was 
again  condemned  to  die.  The  brave  Indian  girl,  who 
had  before  saved  his  life,  secretly  informed  him  of 
his  danger,  told  him  of  a  neighboring  sachem  who 
would  protect  him,  conducted  him  half  a  league  on 
his  way  at  night,  and  hastily  returned,  lest  her  ab- 
sence and  her  errand  should  be  discovered.  He 
found  his  way  to  the  Spanish  army  just  as  they  had 
commenced  their  march,  and  gladly  mingled  with  his 
countrymen,  after  a  captivity  of  twelve  years.  He 
was  most  serviceable  to  them  as  an  interpreter. 

It  is  no  tribute  to  the  humanity  of  De  Soto,  to  re- 
cord that  his  army  was  not  only  equipped  with  neces- 
sary weapons  of  offence  and  defence,  but  that  it  was 
provided  with  manacles  and  chains  for  captives,  and 
the  instruments  of  a  forge,  together  with  ferocious 
blood-hounds,  as  aid  against  the  oj^posing  natives. 
It  was  thus  that  civilized  races  wrenched  from  the 
feeble  grasp  of  the  Indians  their  rightful  possessions  ; 


118  DISCOVERERS    AND    PI0NKER3    OF    AMERICA 

loaded  them  with  chains  in  return  for  their  unsus- 
pecting hospitality ;  forced  upon  them  a  religion  im« 
possible  to  understand,  when  exemplified  by  outra- 
geous cruelty  ;  overlooked  their  manhood,  and  crushed 
them  to  the  earth,  wretched,  helpless  slaves.  It  is  a 
truth  worth  remembrance,  that  those  portions  of 
America  where  civilization  was  ushered  in  by  rapa- 
city and  oppression,  are  still  overclouded  by  the  same 
baneful  influences,  while  those  which  were  enlightened 
in  a  spirit  of  peace  and  good-will,  are  the  most  flour- 
ishino^  States  on  the  continent. 

De  Soto's  severity  is  only  lessened  in  reproach,  by 
comparison  with  all  who  preceded  him,  and  the  usages 
of  the  age,  which,  in  war,  spared  neither  old  nor 
young,  and,  in  the  most  refined  cities  of  the  Old 
World,  licensed  a  general  butchery,  where  there  was 
not  a  gentle  resignation  to  the  Catholic  yoke.  The 
Spaniards  assumed  that  the  Indians  were  an  un- 
appeasable, ferocious  race,  to  be  tamed  only  by 
the  harshest  measures,  and,  accordingly,  always  ap- 
proached them  with  a  dictatory  mien,  and  bristling 
with  weapons  —  the  surest  mode  of  arousing  their 
manly  independence,  and  fierce  opposition. 

Such  a  spirit  pervaded  the  followers  of  De  Soto,  as 
they  struggled  through  the  deceitful  hammucks  of 
the  south,  in  search  of  uncertain  cities,  which  their 
guides  at  one  moment  assured  them  lay  towards  the 
north,  and,  at  the  next,  were  equally  certain  they 
would  find  in  the  west.  The  horses,  though  well- 
trained,  continually  sank  deep  into  the  marshes  con« 


FERDINAND   DE   SOTO.  119 

cealed  beneath  the  luxuriant  gi'owtli  of  "vines,  which 
were  matted  with  close-set  shrubs.  The  foot-soldiers, 
weighed  down  by  their  heavy  armor,  struggled  with 
difficulty  through  the  quagmires,  beneath  a  burning 
sun  ;  and  if  they  sought  shelter  from  the  heat  in  the 
forests  of  gigantic  oak,  cotton-wood,  and  flowering 
magnolias,  which  intervened,  they  were  soon  lost  in 
the  dark,  sombre  mazes  of  these  coverts  of  unfriendly 
Indians,  or  cauglit  in  the  thorny  bushes  and  clinging 
ivy  that  ensnared  their  steps. 

De  Soto,  with  thirty  horsemen  and  fifty  footmen, 
went  in  advance  of  the  army,  intent  upon  finding  a 
province  called  Cale,  where,  a  cacique  had  told  him, 
the  warriors  wore  head-pieces  of  gold  when  they  went 
to  battle.  After  several  days  of  wandering,  he  ar- 
rived at  Cale,  but  found  only  a  deserted  town  and  three 
Indian  spies,  whom  he  took  prisoners.  He  here 
awaited  the  coming  of  those  he  had  left  behind. 
They  made  their  way  but  slowly,  being  exhausted 
with  hunger  and  fatigue.  Provisions  had  given  out. 
and  they  were  obliged  to  depend  upon  the  resources 
of  the  insignificant  villages,  through  which  they  fre- 
quently passed.  Joining  De  Soto  at  Cale,  they  swept 
all  the  fields  of  maize  within  reach,  and  were  obliged 
to  beat  the  grain  in  a  mortar,  and  sift  the  flour 
through  their  coats  of  mail,  in  order  to  prej^are  it  for 
^:read. 

The  march  was  resumed.  Every  settlement  in 
their  progress  was  robbed  of  food,  and  such  natives 
as  could  be  seized  were  enslaved.     Frequently,  skirra- 


120  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

ishes  occurredj  in  wliicli  the  Indians,  wlien  defeated, 
sought  to  save  themselves  by  plunging  into  the  wil- 
derness, or  hiding  under  the  leaves  of  the  water- 
lilies,  on  the  borders  of  deep  lakes,  which  abound  in 
Florida. 

The  soldiers  became  wearied  and  impatient  with 
their  unfruitful  toil,  and  saw  no  fulfillment  of  the 
promises  of  the  youth,  named  Patofa,  who  had  offered 
to  guide  them  to  a  rich  province.  The  young  Indian, 
like  an  evil  spirit,  led  them  by^a  path  that  narrowed 
each  day,  and  finally  was  lost.  Yet  they  followed 
him  through  a  ''fat  country,  beautiful  and  very  fruit- 
ful," waded  rapid  streams,  again  entered  intricate  for- 
ests, and  finally,  after  fording  a  deep  and  wide  river, 
and  halting  in  a  grove  of  pine  trees  in  the  midst  of  a 
dreary  waste  of  low  thicket,  De  Soto's  patience  was 
exhausted,  and  he  threatened  the  youth  with  death 
if  he  longer  led  them  astray.  Patofa  declared  him- 
self bewildered. 

Their  store  of  maize  had  given  out ;  the  men  were 
staggering  with  weakness ;  the  country  through 
which  they  had  passed  could  not  afford  subsistence 
on  their  return  ;  before  them  stretched  an  almost  im- 
penetrable forest ;  and  to  remain  where  they  were, 
exposed  them  to  the  revenge  of  the  wronged  Indians. 
A  consultation  was  held,  in  which  De  Soto  decided  to 
send  scouts  in  every  direction,  to  seek  some  inhabited 
place.  Several  days  of  intense  suspense  and  suffering 
ensued.  One  after  another  of  the  exploring  parties  re- 
turned on  foot,  driving  their  horses  before  them  with 


FERDINAND    DE    SOTO.  121 

sticks,  ^'  for  they  were  so  weary  tliat  they  could  not 
lead  them."  Some  had  been  left  in  the  thickets  and 
marshes,  unable  to  proceed  farther.  De  Soto  was  in- 
dignant that  any  should  have  been  deserted  in  their 
extremity,  and  sent  horsemen  in  search  of  them,  who 
found  and  brought  them  to  the  camp. 

At  length,  one  of  the  parties  returned,  with  the  re- 
viving news  of  a  small  town,  a  few  leagues  distant. 
Inspired  with  fresh  vigor  and  hope,  the  rapidly  di- 
minishing army  set  out  for  the  village,  leaving  a  let- 
ter buried  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  with  directions  to  find 
it,  carved  upon  the  trunk,  for  the  benefit  of  those  com- 
panions who  had  not  returned.  A  supply  of  ground 
maize  was  found  in  the  town,  and  distributed  among 
the  soldiers,  many  of  whom  still  lingered  on  the  road, 
unable  to  drag  themselves  any  fartlier. 

When  strength  and  energy  were  partially  restored 
to  the  army,  they  proceeded  on  their  march  to  a  prov- 
ince governed  by  a  woman.  She  heard  of  their  in- 
tended visit,  and  went  to  meet  them  in  a  barge, 
where  she  sat  beneath  a  rude  canopy,  accompanied 
by  her  attendants.  She  greeted  the  Adelantado  in  a 
friendly  and  generous  speech,  and  presented  him  with 
gifts  of  fine  skins  and  mantles,  composed  of  brilliant 
plumage,  besides  a  cordon  of  pearls,  which  she  cast 
upon  his  neck.  She  then  conducted  him  and  his  fol- 
lowers into  her  own  province. 

Smooth,  fertile  meadows  stretched  along  the  river- 
side ;  fields  of  maize  lay  full  and  ripe,  and  groves  of 
mulberry   and  hickory   ofi'ered  a  refreshing  shade. 
F 


122  DISCOVERERS    AKD   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

The  inhabitants  were  courteous,  attractive,  and,  unlike 
most  of  their  countrymen,  were  clothed  in  skins  and 
mantles,  both  showy  and  graceful.  Pearls  seemed 
plentiful,  though  greatly  injured  by  perforation  and 
burning.  The  Spaniards  were  delighted  with  the  as- 
pect and  promise  of  this  province,  and,  with  one 
voice,  urged  De  Soto  to  take  possession  of,  and  colonize 
it,  as  it  was  but  two  days'  travel  to  the  sea-shore,  and 
afforded  abundant  resources  of  wealth.  To  this,  the 
proud,  ambitious  commander  would  not  listen.  He 
had  fully  determined  to  outvie  Pizarro,  in  the  discov- 
ery of  a  wealthy  nation,  and  nothing  could  deter  him. 
His  resolution  once  formed,  he  was  stern  and  inflexible ; 
knowing  this,  his  followers,  yielding  without  dispute, 
left  behind  the  tempting  dominions  of  the  Indian 
queen,  and  again  plunged  into  the  dark,  miry  depths 
of  the  forest. 

The  province  of  a  powerful,  sullen  cacique,  who 
governed  a  warlike  people,  and  whose  towns  were 
enclosed  by  walls  of  wood  and  clay,  came  next  in 
their  way.  De  Soto  had,  from  his  entrance  into 
Florida,  insisted  that  each  cacique  should  accomj)any 
him  to  the  uttermost  bounds  of  his  province,  both  to 
prevent  the  forming  of  any  evil  designs  against  his 
army,  and  to  enforce  the  services  of  their  subjects  in 
providing  food  and  carrying  burdens.  He  always 
dismissed  his  unwilling  escort  with  courteous  thanks. 
His  compulsory  demand  did  not  suit  the  dignity  of 
the  warrior,  before  whose  towns  the  Spaniards  now 
encamped.    The  chief  had  accompanied  them  a  short 


FERDIKAND   DE   SOTO.  12J> 

distance,  but  refused  to  go  farther,  and,  in  the  midst  of 
Lis  armed  people,  looked  with  disdain  upon  De  Soto, 
and  maintained  a  scornful  silence  to  all  his  recjuire- 
ments.     A   misunderstanding  ensued;    both   parties 
were  sus.picious,  and  the  anger  of  both  was  vented  in 
a  sudden  battle  —  the  first  that  had  occurred  since 
their  landing.     The  town  was  fired,  the  clothes  and 
pearls,  borne  by  the  slaves,  were  destroyed  ;  hun- 
dreds of  the  natives  were  slain,  many  of  the  Spaniards 
wounded,  and  eighteen  of  them  killed.     This  loss  was 
great  to  De  Soto,  as  eighty-siz  of  his  men  had  already 
fallen  by  the   way,  either  from  sickness,  hunger,  or 
the  efi*ects  of  poisoned  arrows. 

The  second  winter  of  their  wanderings  in  Florida 
was  fast  approaching,  and,  though  nothing  but  fa- 
tigue and  suffering  had  yet  been  experienced,  De 
Soto  pushed  onward,  undaunted  by  difficulties.  A 
second  encounter  with  the  natives  was  an  additional 
disaster.  While  slumbering  in  security,  in  an  appa- 
rently deserted  town,  the  houses  were  fired,  and  the 
bewildered  soldiers  rushed  from  the  flames,  unarmed, 
among  the  savages,  who  sprung  up  in  every  direction. 
Frio-htened  at  their  own  work,  the  natives  fled,  leav- 
ing eight  Spaniards  dead.  Many  of  the  horses  were 
consumed,  together  with  the  sldiers'  clothing.  They 
were  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  weaving  mats  of  ivy, 
for  a  covering  from  the  severe  cold  of  winter,  and  of 
manufacturing  saddles  of  cane,  and  lances  from  ash 
wood,  to  replace  their  loss. 

De  Soto  still  refused  to  retrace  his  steps,  though  he 


124  DISCOVEKERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

had  received  tidings  of  a  ship  that  awaited  him  in 
port,  but  six  miles  distant.  He  concealed  the  fact 
from  his  men,  and  would  return  no  account  of  him- 
self, as  his  extravagant  hopes  were  jet  far  from  being 
realized,  and  the  little  store  of  wealth  he  had  accu- 
mulated was  destroyed.  Too  proud  to  acknowledge 
his  misfortunes,  he  preserved  silence,  and  still  cut 
his  way  through  the  dismal  hammucks,  through  the 
snow,  and  over  the  inundated  lowlands,  towards 
the  Mississippi.  He  arrived  upon  the  banks  of 
that  giant  river,  early  in  the  sjDring  of  1541.  In 
beholding  its  richly-wooded  banks,  the  trees  along 
the  shore  draped  with  the  vine  which  so  gracefully 
festoons  the  southern  forests  —  the  soft,  mossy  "  cur- 
tain of  death,"  —  while  gazing  far  down  its  stately 
moving  waters,  and  above,  where  its  immense  vol- 
umes majestically  curved  from  the  concealment  of 
rock  and  forest,  and  across  its  wide,  deep  channel  to 
the  opposite,  dimly-lined  shores,  he  believed,  more 
firmly  than  ever,  that  the  provinces  it  skirted  were 
the  splendid  dominions  he  sought,  and  chat  those  he 
had  traversed,  were  but  the  outskirts  of  the  fancied 
Bemi-barbarous  nation. 

Acting  upon  this  belief,  he  encamped  his  dimin- 
ished army  near  its  banks.  The  soldiers  were  imme- 
diately busied  in  hewing  timber,  to  construct  barges, 
in  which  to  cross  the  interposing  river.  The  ringing 
sound  of  their  labor  echoed  strangely  along  the  shore, 
and  the  wondering  natives  shot  out  here  and  there, 
in  their  canoes,  to  behold  the  skill,  and  cunning  de* 


FERDINAND   DE   SOTO. 


125 


vices,  by  wliicli  the  new  comers  so  quickly  construct- 
ed huge  boats  from  the  fallen  trees.  Their  coming 
had  been  heralded  beyond  the  Mississippi,  long  be- 
fore they  had  reached  its  banks,  by  the  stealthy,  swift 
Indian  runner,  who,  like  the  Scottish  henchman  sent 
with  the  fearful  sign  of  the  crosslet,  to  summon  Yich- 
Alpine's  clan,  was  bid  to 

"Bend  'gainst  tlie  steepy  hill  his  breast, 
Burst  dewn  like  torrent  from  its  crest ; 
With  short  and  springing  footstep  pass 
The  trembling  bog  and  false  morass ; 
Across  the  brook  like  roebuck  bound, 
And  thread  the  brake  like  questing  bound." 

The  chieftains  caught  the  quick  words  of  the  "her- 
ald of  battle,  fate  and  fear,"  and  with  grave,  unmoved 
features,  made  known  to  the  gloomy  warriors,  the  near 
approach  of  the  scourge  that  had  been  prophesied  by 
their  forefathers. 

De  Soto  had  scarcely  encamped  upon  the   river 
banks,  when  his  vigilant  eye  caught  sight  of  a  distant 
fleet  of  canoes,  moving  swiftly  down  the  great  stream. 
As  they  approached  nearer,  they  seemed  a  "  fair  army 
of  gallies."     The  two  hundred  canoes  were  long,  well 
made,  and  filled  from  head  to  stern  with  standing 
warriors,  wearing  white  or  richly  colored  plumes, 
armed  with  bows  and  arrows,  and  bearing  shields  to 
defend  the  rowers,  whose  noiseless,  tim.e-keeping  oars 
conveyed  them  in  long  leaps  over   the   downward 
flowing  water.     As  they  neared  the  Spanish  encamp- 
ment, the  flags,  plumes,  shields,  and  canopies  with 


126         DISCO VEEEES   AJSfD   PIONEEES   OF   AMEEICA. 

whicli  the  canoes  were  decorated,  became  more  dis* 
tinct.  The  principal  cacique  sat  in  the  stern  of  the 
longest  barge,  beneath  a  canopy,  whence  he  com- 
manded and  directed  his  people,  with  a  dignity  and 
stateliness  that  outdid  the  Estremaduran  general,  to 
whom  he  came  to  pay  homage. 

The  canoes  approached  the  shore,  "  to  see  if,  with 
dissimulation,  they  might  do  some  hurt,"  according 
to  the  Portuguese  account,  but,  perceiving  the  Span- 
iards well  armed,  put  off  in  great  haste,  after  sending 
three  canoes  ashore,  loaded  with  mantles  and  provis- 
ions. The  Spaniards,  interpreting  hostility  from  their 
warlike  array,  shot  after  them,  as  their  canoes  receded 
in  perfect  order.  Six  of  the  rowers  were  killed,  but, 
with  a  discipline  that  would  have  done  credit  to  a 
civilized  soldiery,  their  places  were  instantly  filled. 
They  returned  up  the  river  as  noiselessly  as  they 
came.  The  camp  remained  unmolested  during  the 
succeeding  thirty  days,  which  were  occuj^ied  in 
building  boats. 

The  river  was  crossed  without  difficulty  or  opposi- 
tion, and  the  explorers  were  greatly  relieved  to  find 
themselves  traversing  a  more  open  and  a  drier  country 
than  that  which  had  hitherto  impeded  their  progress. 
The  sight  of  smo<^th  fields,  thin  woods,  groves  of  mul- 
berry and  wild  plum ;  trees  bearing  grateful  fruit, 
and  frequent  Indian  towns  containing  a  peaceful  pop- 
ulation, invigorated  the  wearied  and  despairing  troops. 
The  accounts  of  a  powerful  cacique,  at  no  great  dis- 
tance, lured  them  on.     "When  arrived  at  the  prov- 


FERDINAND   DE   SOTO.  127 

ince  of  Casqiii,  that  cacique  met  De  Soto  witli  gifts, 
and  offered  the  town  for  the  use  of  the  soldiers. 
Many  exchanges  of  courtesy,  and  bombastic  words  of 
friendship  followed. 

De  Soto  remained  in  adjoining  groves  with  his  fol- 
lowers. Casqui  returned  to  the  town,  and  soon  ap- 
peared again,  with  many  of  his  people,  among  whom 
were  two  blind  men.  The  latter  approached  De  Soto, 
prostrated  themselves  before  him,  and  besought  him, 
as  the  "Son  of  the  Sun,"  to  restore  light  to  their 
sightless  eyes.  Touched  by  their  confiding  simplici- 
ty, and  reminded,  by  the  incident,  of  the  mission  of 
Christ,  whose  atonement  he  had  failed  to  make 
known  along  the  way,  except  in  a  warlike  spirit,  he 
assured  the  supplicants  that  God  alone  could  restore 
them,  and  they  "should  ask  whatsoever  they  stood  in 
need  of,  of  the  Lord  which  was  in  heaven."  He 
showed  them  the  cross,  told  them  of  the  Saviour,  and 
finished  by  commanding  a  large  cross  to  be  made, 
and  erected  on  the  highest  eminence  in  the  town, 
^  in  commemoration  of  Christ's  sufferings."  The  Ad- 
olantado,  his  troops,  and  the  awed  Indians,  knelt  be- 
fore it  and  worshiped ;  as  long  as  it  remained,  the  be- 
nighted race  prostrated  themselves  before  it,  and 
prayed  to  it  as  to  an  idol.  Thus,  though  unwittingly, 
the  Spaniards  conducted  them  to  a  surer  idolatry  than 
that  which  they  already  possessed,  by  offering  them 
symbolic,  instead  of  purely  spiritual  religion. 

The  cacique  of  the  adjoining  province,  being  at  en- 
u\ity  with  Casqui,  and  hearing  of  his  formidable  al- 


128         DISCOVEKEBS    AND   PIONEERS   OF   AMEBIC  A. 

lies,  retired  witli  his  warriors  to  an  island,  lying  at 
tlie  juncture  of  two  streams.  When  De  Soto  arrived 
at  the  deserted  towns,  he  found  them  walled ;  the 
principal  one  being  flanked  with  rude  towers,  and 
nearly  surrounded  by  a  lake  and  ditch.  An  abun- 
dance of  skins  and  mantles  were  appropriated  by  the 
destitute  troops,  and  converted  into  cassocks,  gowns, 
jerkins,  hose  and  shoes.  Thus  appareled  in  the  robes 
of  the  Indian  hunters,  without  the  apology  of  their 
being  the  spoils  of  war,  they  pursued  the  owners,  and, 
with  the  assistance  of  Casqui,  drove  them  from  the 
wooded  island,  and  took  many  of  them  prisoners. 

Casqui,  however,  took  possession  of  their  goods, 
and,  lest  he  should  not  be  permitted  to  retain  them, 
hurried  off,  without  a  w^ord  of  adieu  to  De  Soto.  At 
this,  De  Soto  united  with  the  cacique  of  Pacaha,  and 
began  a  march  into  Casqui's  province,  upon  which 
the  run-away  warrior  made  the  most  humble  apolo- 
gies, and  placed  all  his  possessions  at  the  Spaniards' 
disposal.  Thus,  having  conquered  both  the  caciques^ 
who  had  long  been  sworn  foes,  he  provided  as  sump- 
tuous a  dinner  as  he  could  afford,  invited  the  chieftains, 
and  made  them  friends.  But  the  smoke  of  their  pipe 
of  peace  had  scarcely  curled  away,  before  the  jealous 
caciques  "  fell  at  variance  about  the  seats,  which  of 
them  should  sit  on  the  right  hand  of  the  conqueror." 
Again  De  Soto  interposed,  and  restored  good  feeling, 
by  assuring  them  that  he  considered  either  seat  equal- 
ly honorable.  The  feast  was  partaken  with  the  ut- 
most good  will,  on  all  sides,  and,  thenceforth,  the  two 


FERDINAND    DE    SOTO.  129 

caciques  vied  with  eacli  otlicr  in  gifts  and  kind  ser- 
vices to  De  Soto. 

The  Spaniards  continued  their  march  to  the  north, 
after  crossing  the  Mississippi,  till  the  increasing  cold, 
and  the  reports  of  a  destitute  country  beyond,  deci- 
ded De  Soto  to  turn  to  the  south.  His  proud  deter- 
mination be2;an  to  fail  him,  as  dream  after  dream  van- 
ished before  the  stern  realities  with  which  his  faithful 
followers  fought  at  every  step,  l^o  gold,  no  silver, 
no  more  pearls  or  precious  stones  rewarded  their 
search.  They  were  fortunate  when  they  found  food 
enough  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  hunger.  De  Soto 
looked  with  pain  upon  his  few  remaining  followers. 
They  who,  in  brilliant  armor,  with  waving  pennons 
and  plumes,  and  prancing  steeds,  had  boldly  dashed 
into  the  tangled  hammucks  of  Florida,  were  now 
traversing  the  swamps,  and  pools,  and  snow,  clad  in 
shaggy  bear-skins,  rough  ox-hides,  and  mantles  of 
softer  fur  and  feathers,  bearing  ashen  lances  of  their 
own  make,  a  few  steel  weapons,  and  remnants  of  rus- 
ty coats  of  mail.  They  looked  like  a  troop  of  wild 
Laplanders,  thus  wrapped  in  shaggy  caps,  mantles, 
and  shoes,  and  often  driving  before  them,  with  sticks, 
the  jaded,  moping  horses,  in  whose  sides  every  rib 
could  be  counted. 

With  but  half  of  his  original  army  left,  De  Soto 
knew  that  it  was  useless  to  contend  with  the  savages. 
There  was  no  more  promise  of  discovering,  here,  a 
second  Cusco,  or  another  Atahualpa;   and  no  enti 
cing  accounts  of  distant  riches,  to  nerve  his  devoted 

F*  y 


130  DISC0VEEEK3    AXD    PIONEERS   OF    AMEKICA. 

band  to  meet  new  dangers.  Yet,  unwilling  to  yield, 
at  once,  liis  sj)lendid  schemes,  and  clinging  to  tliem 
with  the  tenacity  of  a  hopeful  and  energetic  spirit,  he 
consoled  himself  with  the  plan  of  returning  to  Cuba, 
for  a  fresh  supply  of  troops,  and  then  pursuing  his 
search,  farther  w^est  and  south.  He  encouraged  his 
men,  and  concealed  his  own  misgivings  and  disap- 
pointment, by  continually  dwelling  upon  this  new 
project,  and,  with  that  in  view,  turned  to  seek  the 
sea  shore. 

First,  they  clambered  over  rough  mountains,  then 
descended  to  a  smooth,  champaign  district,  whore 
they  were  detained  for  months,  by  the  snow.  The 
winter  passed  away,  in  these  struggles  to  gain  the  sea- 
coast.  Early  in  March,  1542,  they  again  pressed  for- 
ward, and,  after  an  exhausting  journey  through  alow 
country,  rendered  almost  impassable  by  frequent 
bayous,  lakes,  cane-brakes,  and  forests,  they  succeed- 
ed in  reaching  the  Mississippi.  Encamped  once  more 
upon  its  banks,  their  courage  revived,  though  each 
day,  some  one  of  their  number  became  victims  to 
starvation  or  hardship.  Their  unmarked  graves  lay 
all  along  the  route,  and  many  of  those  who  again  be- 
held the  ocean-ward  waters,  were  destined  to  receive 
a  secret  burial  in  some  hidden  nook  of  the  forest  bor- 
dering the  river. 

The  first  cacique  who  visited  the  camp,  was  eagerly 
questioned  concerning  the  distance  of  the  sea,  and 
the  nature  of  the  intervening  country.  De  Soto  lis* 
tened,  with  oppressive  forebodings,  to  his  account  of 


FEKDINAND   DE   SOTO.  131 

the  uninhabited  and  dreary  waste,  that  characterized 
the  lower  banks  of  the  river.  He  would  not  believe 
the  disheartening  relation,  and  dispatched  a  small 
party  to  ascertain  the  truth  of  it.  At  the  end  of 
eight  days,  the  men  returned  in  despair ;  they  had 
penetrated  but  a  few  leagues,  owing  to  the  numberless 
creeks,  cane-groves,  and  thick  woods  that  opposed 
their  progress.  ISTot  a  human  being,  or  the  sign  of  a 
habitation,  had  been  seen  by  the  way.  How  were 
they  to  force  their  way  to  the  sea,  over  many  hundred 
leagues  of  marshes,  and  swamps,  without  the  means 
of  sustenance?  De  Soto  received  the  intelligence  in 
silence.  His  men  gathered  about  him,  thoughtful 
and  gloomy,  and  unable  to  cheer  their  commander. 
His  unflagging  energy,  and  obstinate  perseverance, 
had  imparted  courage  and  strength  to  them  till  now. 
That  his  strong  spirit  should  bend  under  their  misfor- 
tunes, was  utterly  depressing ;  they  looked  in  each 
other's  famished  faces  with  questioning  glances,  but 
no  one  could  suggest  a  mode  of  escape  from  the  fiite 
that  threatened  them. 

Housed  by  the  sufferings  of  his  faithful  followers, 
De  Soto  made  another  effort  to  obtain  relief.  He  had 
been  told  of  a  cacique  across  the  river,  who  ruled  the 
province  of  Quigalta,  and  was  said  to  be  the  "  great- 
est lord  in  that  country."  He  immediately  sent  an 
Indian,  to  inform  him  of  the  arrival  of  the  "  Son  of  the 
Sun,"  whom  all  the  caciques  of  his  nation  obeyed  ;  so- 
licited his  friendship,  and  desired  him  to  come  to  him 
with  tokens  of  obedience  and  love.     When  the  mes 


132         DISCOVEliERS    AXD    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

senger  had  gone,  De  Soto  threw  himself  upon  his  low 
hard  bed,  sick  from  disaj)pointed  hopes  and  perplex- 
ity. He  knew  not  how  to  extricate  himself  from  the 
snare  into  which  ambition  had  led  him,  and  if  he  did 
escape,  his  pride  shrank  from  appearing  before  the 
world,  a  foiled  adventurer.  He  had  for  a  while  sus- 
tained himself  and  his  troo]3s,  with  the  empty  pro- 
ject of  fitting  out  a  new  expedition,  but  his  means 
were  not  adequate,  and  if  they  w^ere,  what  was  there 
in  the  wilderness  of  Florida  to  tempt  him  ?  His  ti- 
tles, too,  what  were  they  ?  When  he  received  them 
at  the  hand  of  an  Emperor,  and  all  the  world  be- 
lieved they  gifted  him  with  power  and  riches,  he  glo- 
ried in  them.  But,  what  was  it  to  be  the  marquis  of 
marshes,  and  impenetrable  thickets  ? — to  be  governor 
of  a  wild,  untamed  host,  who  would  pay  no  tribute 
but  coarse  food,  and  shaggy  robes  ?  The  name  of 
Adelantado  of  Florida,  sounded  far  differently  in  his 
ears,  when  he  had  traversed  his  possessions,  than 
when  he  stood,  an  admired  hero,  in  the  presence  of 
royalty.  He  had  not  courage  to  face  the  world,  in 
his  reverses,  nor  to  return  to  his  high-born  wife,  who 
awaited  him  at  Cuba,  in  painful  suspense.  Could  he 
have  known,  with  what  faithfulness  and  solicitude 
she  had,  repeatedly,  sent  ships  to  the  coast  of  Flori- 
da, to  gain  tidings  of  him,  and  could  he  have  known 
that  the  news  of  his  death  would  bear  her,  heart- 
broken, to  the  grave,  he  might  have  rallied  a  sterner 
courage,  and  pressed  to  the  sea-shore,  w^ith  those  who 
finallv  returned  to  then*  native  land. 


ft 


FERDINAND    DE    SOTO.  133 

The  depression  of  spirits,  which  at  first  prostrated 
De  Soto,  soon  induced  a  malignant  fever.  "While  he 
lay  thus  helpless,  the  Indian  messenger  returned  from 
the  cacique  of  Quigalta,  with  a  fierce,  defiant  reply 
to  his  demands.  "  You  say  you  are  the  child  of  the 
sun.  Dry  up  the  river,  and  I  will  believe  you.  Do 
you  desire  to  see  me  ?  Yisit  the  town  where  I  dwell. 
If  you  come  in  peace,  I  will  receive  you  with  good- 
will ;  if  in  war,  I  will  not  shrink  one  foot  back,"  was 
the  messao:e  of  the  undaunted  chieftain.  Poor  com- 
fort  to  the  dying  commander. 

A  few  days  after,  De  Soto  called  his  followers  about 
him,  and  told  them  of  his  approaching  death.  He  ap- 
pointed a  successor,  asked  forgiveness  for  wrong  that 
he  might  have  done  anj  one,  thanked  them  for  their 
loyalty,  and  prayed  for  God's  mercy,  and  the  accept- 
ance of  his  departing  soul.  He  died  on  the  21st  of 
May.  Few  attentions,  and  fewer  comforts,  soothed 
his  last  hours,  since  a  constant  look-out  for  attacks 
from  the  natives,  who  had  gathered  along  the  oppo- 
site banks  of  the  river,  diverted  and  distracted  the 
thoughts  of  those  to  whom  he  looked.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  conceal  his  death,  for  the  Indians  had  been 
taught  to  believe  the  Christians  were  immortal,  and 
they  particularly  regarded  De  Soto  as  a  brave  war- 
rior, whom  none  could  oppose.  His  death  would  be 
the  signal  for  their  onset. 

His  body  was  concealed  for  two  or  three  days,  but 
the  Indians,  who  had  occasionally  visited  the  camp, 
missed  him,  and  suspected  the  truth.     Fearful  lest  his 


IM         DISCOVERERS    AND    riONEEES    OF    AMERICA. 

remains  slionld  be  discovered,  he  was  buried  in  the 
dead  of  niglit,  near  one  of  tlie  gates  of  the  little  town 
which  they  had  converted  into  a  camp.  The  follow- 
ing day,  the  watchful  visitors  spied  the  broken  earth, 
and  exchanged  glances  of  suspicion,  and  again  in- 
quired for  the  valiant  leader.  De  Soto  was  not  sui 
fered  to  remain  in  his  unsafe  grave.  When  the 
darkness  of  midnight  came,  a  boat,  bearing  a  few 
grave,  gloomy  Spaniards,  put  out  stealthily  from  be- 
neath the  overhanging  branches  of  the  forest,  that 
lined  the  banks.  The  dipping  of  the  tell-tale  oars 
was  muffled  in  soft  strokes,  yet  the  soldiers  moved 
breathlessly  down  the  deep,  swift  stream,  as  if  a 
thousand  dark  forms  were  bending  along  the  shore  to 
catch  the  sound.  They  rowed  far  out  into  the  river, 
midway  between  the  two  banks,  where  the  strange, 
fearful  sounds  of  a  vast  wilderness,  the  rustling  and 
moaning  of  the  wind  among  the  trees,  and  the  shrill, 
musical  notes  of  the  mocking-bird,  offered  a  distant 
dirge.  With  the  few  Catholic  rites  that  haste  could 
bestow,  De  Soto,  wrapped  in  his  Indian  mantle,  was 
lifted  to  the  edge  of  the  boat,  and  dropped  into  the 
waters,  that  opened  and  received  him,  and  swept  on 
to  the  gulf  below.* 

The  succeeding  day,  the  Indians  observed  the  sad 
countenances  of  the  Spaniards,  and  believing  De  Soto 

*  The  burial  of  De  Soto  has  been  represented  by  an  artist,  as  a 
bright,    moonlight     scene,    with    the    accompaniment   ef    flaming 
torches.     This  beautiful  painting  disagrees  with  history,  which  rep- 
resents the  act  as  performed  under  circumstances  of  the  utmost  con 
cealment. 


FEEDINAND    DE   SOTO.  135 

tvas  dead,  continued  to  question  his  mysterious  disap- 
pearance.    They  were  assured  that  he  had  gone  to 
heaven,  but  wouki  return  in  a  few  days.     A  cacique 
oflered  the  sacrifice  of  two  Indians,  to    accompany 
and  serve  him  in  the  spiritual  world  ;  but,  he  was  told 
that  De  Soto's  own  soldiers  had  gone  with  him  and 
would  come  again.     The  cacique,  accustomed  to  dis- 
simulation himself,  would  not  believe  the  account. 
Dreading  the  result  of  these  suspicions,  the  Spaniards, 
under  their  new  commander,  immediately  prepared 
to  seek  the  sea-side.     They  dismissed  nearly  all  the 
slaves,  who  had  accompanied  them  throughout  the 
expedition,  from  want  of  food  to  support  them.    They 
then   embarked  in  boats,  or  brigantines,  rudely  con- 
structed, and  yielded  themselves  to  the  swift  course 
of  the  river.     After  frequent  encounters  with  the  In- 
dians, they  reached  the  ocean.     There,   they   were 
many  days  at  the  mercy  of  a  furious  tempest.     At 
last  they  landed  in  the  same  harbor,  from  whence, 
five  years  before,  De  Soto  had  led  them  to  expected 
triumphs,  and  kingly  fortunes.     Additions  had  been 
made  to  the  small  colony,  left  there  by  De  Soto.    His 
return  had  long  been  unlooked  for,  and  it  was  sup- 
posed, both  in  the  Indies  and  Spain,  that  he  and  his 
followers  had  perished  in  the  wilderness.     The  unex- 
pected arrival  was  welcomed  with  joyful  celebrations, 
and  the  forlorn  adventurers  were  conducted  thence  to 
Mexico,  and  afterwards  to  Spain  ;  occasioning  as  much 
excitement  and  wonder,  upon  their  route,  as  the  con- 
querors themselves  had  roused. 


386  DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF    A^IERICA. 

Thus  ended  the  splendid  expedition,  which  had 
promised  to  outdo  all  that  preceded  it.  De  Soto 
risked  his  fortune  and  reputation  in  it,  and  a  retribu- 
tive Providence  permitted  the  same  cause  to  despoil, 
that  had  enriched  him.  Personal  ambition,  more  than 
a  desire  to  enlighten  the  world,  actuated  him.  He 
was  haughty,  proud,  and  firm,  but  neither  cruel  noi 
unjust,  when  compared  with  the  ferocious  conquerors 
of  his  time,  or  when  the  bigoted  and  severe  meas- 
ures, universally  employed  by  Catholic  nations,  are 
considered.  He  was  honorable,  frank  and  fearless  — 
possessed  unsurpassed  energy,  and  an  indomitable 
will.  These  qualities  endeared  him  to  his  followers, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  enabled  him  to  wield  the  irre- 
sistible power,  which  an  unwavering  decision  of  char- 
acter, and  strong  will,  gives  over  weaker  minds.  His 
troops  would  have  fMlowed  him  to  the  uttermost 
bounds  of  the  continent,  without  a  murmur,  had  he 
chosen  to  lead  them  there. 

De  Soto,  in  all  his  wanderings,  "  found  nothing  so 
remarkable  as  his  burial  place,"  as  a  historian  justly 
remarks.  His  devoted  companions  fitly  consigned 
him  to  the  depths  of  the  giant  river,  which  is  a  perpetu- 
al record  of  his  achievements.  He  needs  no  other 
inscription  upon  the  tomb,  that  should  be  raised  to 
him  beside  the  "  Father  of  Waters,"  than  ti.at  which 
BO  briefly  immortalizes  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  in  St 
Paul's  Cathedral, —  "  Circumsj^iceP 


IV. 


SIR  WALTER  RALEIGH. 

The  name  of  Raleigh  is  enrolled  among  the  dia- 
tinguished  statesmen  of  England ;  it  is  upon  the  list 
of  the  coquettish  and  whimsical  Elizabeth's  favor- 
ites ;  is  honorably  numbered  among  the  celebrated 
authors  of  her  reign  ;  is  brilliantly  recorded  with  the 
gallant  captors  of  Cadiz,  and  is  inscribed  upon  the 
pages  of  American  history,  both  as  the  seeker  of  an 
El  Dorado,  in  the  yet  half-explored  regions  of  the 
Orinoco,  and  as  the  discoverer,  and  active  patron  of 
the  State  christened  in  honor  of  the  Yirgin  Queen. 

In  this  rare,  and  perhaps  unequaled,  combination 
of  talent,  he  proved  himself  accomplished  as  a  schol- 
ar, graceful  and  fascinating  as  a  courtier,  eloquent 
and  forcible  as  a  politician,  an  impetuous,  skillful  sol- 
dier, and  a  persevering,  hardy  navigator.  His  bold 
and  vigorous  intellect,  and  power  of  concentration, 
enabled  him  to  engage  in  a  variety  of  pursuits  with 
ease  ;  and  an  ardent,  sanguine  temperament,  impelled 
him  to  a  degree  of  success  in  each,  which  modera- 
tion could  never  have  aspired  to,  or  attained. 

Shakspeare,  the  cotemporary  of  Ealeigh,  may,iu 


138         DISCOVERERS    AlfD   PIONEERS    OF   AIMKRICA. 

deed,  have  drawn   from  the  latter    his   portrait   of 
P*ince  Hamlet  — 

"The  courtier's,  soldier's,  scliolar's  eye,  tongue  sword 
Tlie  expectancy  and  rose  of  the  fair  state, 
The  glass  of  fashion  and  the  mould  of  form. 
The  observed  of  all  observers  1  "  ' 

His  faults  were  as  conspicuous  as  his  virtues,  and 
he  took  no  pains  to  conceal  them.  Yain,  ambitious, 
fond  of  display, —  unprincipled,  though  not  vicious, 
servile  to  those  in  power,  and  haughty  towards  his 
inferiors,  he  managed  to  obtain  the  mingled  derision 
and  envy  of  his  comj-^etitors,  and  extreme  unpopular- 
ity among  the  people.  All  England  detested  him  be- 
fore half  his  career  was  spent.  Among  the  populace, 
his  plainly  visible  faults  were  deemed  the  exuber- 
ance of  wickedness,  rather  than  recklessly  exposed 
defects,  which  most  men  are  adroit  enough  to  conceal. 

The  troubled  experience  of  half  a  century,  and  a 
long  imprisonment,  however,  modified  and  softened 
the  character  of  Raleigh.  A  belief  in  true  Christian- 
ity, and  an  acceptance  of  the  promises  of  the  Redeem- 
er, displaced  his  early  atheistical  principles,  and  pre- 
pared him  to  meet  his  sad  and  undeserved  fate  with 
calm,  heroic  endurance. 

Sir  Walter  was  the  fourth  son  of  Walter  Raleigh, 
an  untitled,  English  gentleman.  His  mother  was  the 
widow  of  Otho  Gilbert.  After  her  marriage  wdth 
Raleigh,  they  resided  upon  a  farm,  called  Hayes,  in 
Devonshire,  beautifully  situated  on  the  banks  of  the 
Otter,  not  far  from  the  sea-coast.     "Walter  was  born 


Sm    WALTEll   EALEIGH.  139 

here,  in  1552  —  the  same  year  that  placed  the  bigoted 
ISLary  upon  the  throne  of  England.  The  seclusion  of 
his  home  prevented  any  familiarity  with  the  fearful 
scenes  of  her  reign  ;  whether  he  listened  to  their  re- 
cital, or  what  were  the  incidents  and  impressions  of 
his  childhood,  is  not  known.  ^NTothing  earlier  is  cited 
of  him  than  his  collegiate  course,  at  Oxford.  Of  his 
aptness  and  application  while  there,  Lord  Bacon 
gives  evidence,  and,  at  that  time,  foretold  his  future 
eminence. 

At  seventeen,  Ealeigh  was  a  spirited,  courageous, 
well-informed  youth,  ready  to  engage  in  any  hazard- 
ous enterprise,  in  which  success  would  obtain  him 
honor.  England,  but  lately  freed  from  Catholic  do- 
minion, sympathized  with  the  sufiering  Huguenots  of 
France.  Her  young  noblemen  gallantly  volunteered 
their  assistance  to  the  queen  of  ISTavarre,  whom  Eliz- 
abeth had  already  befriended.  The  ambitious  young 
Raleigh  was  awake  to  the  enthusiasm  that  pervaded 
the  high-born  aspirants  for  fame,  and,  with  them,  was 
prompted  by  a  nobler  motive  to  aid  the  cause  of  a 
people,  persecuted  for  their  religion.  A  select  com- 
pany of  one  hundred  of  the  young  nobility,  under  the 
command  of  Henry  Champernon,  sailed  for  France, 
and  arrived  in  the  Protestant  camp  in  October,  1569. 
*  Finem  det  tnilii  virtus^''  was  the  motto  inscribed 
upon  their  banner,  which  they  bore  with  a  feeling  of 
pride  and  ardor,  yet  unwithered  by  experience. 

They  were  gratefully  received  by  the   queen  and 
princess  ;  but  here  history  leaves  them      What  feata 


140        DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS   OF    AJSIERICA. 

they  performed,  or  what  success  attended  their  arms, 
is  not  recorded  ;  though  it  is  to  be  presumed,  that 
young  cavaliers,  of  high  mettle  and  martial  enthusi- 
asm, zealously  esj)Ousing  the  cause  of  their  own  Pro- 
testant faith,  against  the  oppression  of  Popery,  must 
have  bravely  represented  their  nation.  The  actions 
in  which  they  engaged,  were  the  first  lessons  of  a 
course  of  five  years  of  warfare,  that  disciplined  Ka- 
leigh  into  an  able  commander.  A  pupil  in  the  ranks 
of  the  brilliant,  but  ill-fated  Coligny,  and  a  witness 
of,  and  participator  in  the  countless  sieges,  marches, 
massacres  and  stratagems,  attendant  upon  a  civil 
strife,  he  became  an  adept  in  the  tactics  of  war.  Un- 
der the  wing  of  the  British  Ambassador,  he,  to  some 
extent,  became  initiated  in  the  secret  workings  of  poli- 
tics, and  a  witness  of  the  skillful  manoeuvres  of  states- 
men as  well  as  warriors ;  and,  an  associate  of  the  no- 
ble defenders  of  the  Huguenot  cause  in  intervals  of 
relaxation,  he  acquired  the  polish,  ease  and  gallantry 
peculiar  to  French  society. 

With  his  well-stored  lessons,  gleaned  from  the  field 
of  battle,  from  the  cabinet,  and  from  the  gay  saloons 
of  Paris,  Paleigh  returned  to  England,  and  to  a  xe- 
tired,  studious  life,  seemingly  with  no  plan  for  the 
future.  He  preferred  the  soldier's  profession,  but,  in 
the  halls  of  the  Middle  Temple,  awaited  events  that 
would  shape  his  course.  It  is  asserted  by  some  that 
he  studied  law  while  there ;  others  presume,  with 
more  probability,  that  he  was  simply  a  resident  there, 
and  that  his  leisure  w^^s  devoted  to  the  muses,  as  hia 


Sm   WALTER   RALEIGH.  141 

poetr^i  testifies.  Rhyming  was  an  indispensable  ac- 
complishment of  the  day,  and  Raleigh's  ready  talent 
was  as  apt  for  versifying,  as  for  every  other  pursuit. 
Several  of  his  compositions  reflect  credit  upon  his 
poetical  taste.  Some  portion  of  those  three  years  of 
repose,  must,  likewise,  have  been  devoted  to  close 
reading  ;  his  finished  scholarship  could  not  have  been 
so  thoroughly  attained,  during  his  subsequent  active 
life. 

In  1578,  the  military  career  was  again  open  to  his 
choice.  Don  John,  of  Austria,  was  at  war  with  the 
^Netherlands,  where  his  tyrannical  government  had 
been  sturdily  opposed.  The  sceptre  of  the  States  had 
been  given  him  by  his  brother,  the  king  of  Spain,  to 
divert  him  from  more  ambitious  desis^ns.  His  mis- 
chievous  propensities,  however,  could  not  be  rocked  to 
sleep  in  a  golden  cradle.  Flushed  by  a  successful 
battle  against  the  Turks,  and  boastful  of  the  Pope's 
favor,  he  formed  the  project  of  rescuing  and  marry- 
ing the  unfortunate  Queen  of  Scots,  and  subsequently 
claiming  the  British  throne.  However  absurd  the 
plan,  "  Don  John's  haughty  conceit  of  himself  over- 
came the  greatest  difliculties,  though  his  judgment 
was  over-weak  to  manage  the  lease,"  as  Raleigh  him- 
self says.  The  haughty  Elizabeth  determined  to  pun- 
ish his  temerity.  A  body  of  troops  was  dispatched 
to  the  l!Netherlands,  under  the  command  of  Sir  John 
Norris.  Raleigh  joined  this  army,  but  there  is  no 
account  of  his  having  distinguished  himself  in  the 
expedition.     He  was,  doubtless,  present  at  the  famous 


142         DISCOYEEEES   AKD    PIOKEEES    OF   AiMEEICA. 

and  decisive  battle  of  Rimenant,  when,  by  a  cunning 
stratagem,  Don  John  and  his  army  were  completely 
overthrown. 

Kaleigh  returned  to  England,  and,  in  the  following 
year,  engaged  in  a  voyage  of  discovery  with  his  half- 
brother.  Sir  Humphrey  Gilbert.  He  seized  upon 
every  opportunity  •  to  secure  distinction  and  extend 
his  knowledge.  His  early  experience  in  nautical  af- 
fairs, however,  was  of  short  duration.  The  desertion 
of  one  of  the  largest  ships  in  the  fleet,  and  an  encoun- 
ter with  the  Spaniards,  so  disabled  the  expedition, 
that  it  was  soon  obliged  to  put  back  into  port. 

^Notwithstanding  Haleigh's  varied  and  broken  lite, 
he  found  time  for  intellectual  labor.  He  allowed 
himself  but  five  hours,  out  of  the  twenty-four,  for 
sleep,  and  four  were  regularly  appropriated  to  study. 
"When  unavoidably  interrupted  by  his  occupations, 
he  shared  the  hardships  and  labor  of  the  common  sol- 
diers and  sailors  ;  mingled  with  them,  studied  theii 
various  phases  of  character,  and  never  failed  to  find 
sources  of  information  in  the  most  humble.  Such  en- 
ergy and  diligence  could  not  fail  to  earn  a  coveted 
fame. 

At  this  time,  a  rebellion  in  Ireland  called  forth  ac- 
tive measures,  on  the  part  of  the  English.  The  op- 
pressive laws  which  debarred  the  Catholics  from  gov- 
ernmental office,  roused  the  independent  spirit  of  the 
Irish  leaders,  and  the  emissaries  of  the  Pope  goaded 
their  discontent  to  open  insurrection.  Philip  of 
Spain  took  part  with  them,  in  revenge  for  Elizabeth's 


Sm   WALTER    KALEIGH.  14-3 

aid  to  tlie  Huguenots.  Eut,  before  afiairs  were  per- 
fected in  Ireland,  Lord  Grey  was  dispatched  with  a 
body  of  troops,  to  silence  the  murmurs,  by  swift  and 
unsparing  punishment. 

Ealeigh  was  appointed  captain  of  a  troop  of  horse. 
He  occupied  a  prominent  position  in  all  the  move- 
ments of  the  army,  and  frequently  signalized  him- 
self in  daring  adventures  and  hair-breadth  escapes. 
There  was  no  general  engagement ;  the  undisciplined 
insurgents  required  a  different  mode  of  warfare.  As 
is  cursorily  told  by  Belknap,  Pvaleigh's  duties  "  were 
difficult,  often  painful,  and  eminently  perilous  ;  to 
capture  a  rebellious  and  suspected  chieftain,  to  hunt 
outlaws,  to  disperse  the  hourly  gatherings  of  half- 
naked,  but  exasperated  peasants,  to  burn,  to  pillage, 
to  kill,"  were  occupations  little  suited  to  Raleigh's 
taste.  The  cold-blooded  butcheries  he  was  obliged 
to  superintend,  excited  his  disgust.  He  would  hive 
gloried  in  a  fair  contest,  on  the  battle-field,  but  seiz- 
ing and  executing  rebels,  was  not  the  realization  of 
his  ideal  warrior.  He  wrote  to  the  Earl  of  Leicester, 
that  "he  disdained  his  place  and  charge,  as  much  as 
to  keep  sheep,"  and  hoped  for  a  speedy  return  from 
that  "  commonwealth,  or  rather  common-wo." 

His  valor  and  address  were  signally  displayed,  du- 
ring his  stay  in  L-eland,  on-  various  occasions ;  partic- 
ularly in  his  capture  of  Lord  Eoche,  an  influential, 
insurgent  nobleman,  who  occupied  a  castle  three 
miles  from  Cork,  where  Ealeigh  was  stationed.  The 
road  thither  led  through   rocky   defiles,   and   over 


114  DISCOVEEEES    AKD    PIONEEES    OF   AMEEICA. 

precipitous  hills,  whicli  were  occupied  by  bands  of 
rebels,  prepared  to   waylay   scouting   parties.     The 
difficulties  of  the  route,  and  tlie  seizure  of  a  chieftain 
in  his  stronghold,  and  in  the  very  face  of  his  retain- 
ers, were  obstacles  that  excited  Raleigh's  adventur- 
ous spirit.     "With  a  party  of  picked  men,  he  set  out 
on  a  dark  night,  reached  the  castle  in  safety,  and  ob- 
tained admittance  by  a  cunning  stratagem.     After 
coolly  partaking  of  the  nobleman's  hospitality,  he  an- 
nounced his  intention  of  immediately  conveying  him 
and  his  family  prisoners  to  Cork.     Lord  Roche  en- 
deavored to  dissuade  him,  on  account  of  the  darkness 
and  storm,  which  greatly  increased  the  dangers  of 
the  road.     Raleigh  was  not  to  be  foiled,  however. 
He  hastily  set  out  with  his  prize,  and,  under  cover  of 
the  storm,  reached  Cork  at  daybreak,  without  molesta- 
tion, but  with  sufficient  evidence  of  the  perils  they  had 
undergone,  in  the  dead  body  of  one  of  the  soldiers, 
and  in  the  bruises  several  had  received  from  repeated 
falls  on  the  wild  route.     The  English  governor  was 
greatly  astonished  at  the  presentation  of  this  noble 
prisoner.     Raleigh's  daring  spirit  was  a  theme  of 
admiration  in  the  camp. 

When  the  Earl  of  Osmond  returned  to  England, 
Raleigh  succeeded  him  as  Governor  of  Munster,  in 
conjunction  with  two  other  officers.  He  was  en- 
trusted with  the  chief  command  of  the  city  of  Cork, 
then  consisting  of  but  one  street,  terminated  by  a 
bridge  over  the  Lee. 

His  services  in  the  Irish  wars,  though  sufficient  to 


SIK   WALTER   RALEIGH.  145 

gain  liim  reput<ation  among  military  men,  could  not 
distinguish  him  in  the  brilliant  court  of  Elizabeth. 
He  was  entirely  overshadowed  by  the  greatness  of 
the  guilty  and  deceptive  Leicester,  the  talented  and 
high-minded  Sidney,  and  the  blunt,  but  influential 
Sussex.  His  introduction  at  court  has  been  attrib- 
uted to  those  noblemen,  but  tradition  plausibly  re- 
lates a  characteristic  incident,  as  the  immediate  cause 
of  his  promotion. 

Haleigh  was  excessively  fond  of  display.  He  had 
expended  nearly  the  whole  of  his  limited  income  upon 
an  expensive  and  gay  attire,  which  vied  with  the 
"  beruffled  and  embroidered  gallants"  of  his  time. 
One  day,  after  a  shower,  Elizabeth  enjoyed  her  usual 
walk,  with  a  gay  retinue  of  ladies  and  cavaliers,  who 
buzzed  as  plentifully  in  her  path,  as  golden  bees  on 
the  drapery  of  modern  French  royalty.  Upon  com- 
ing to  a  muddy  spot,  she  hesitated  to  soil  her  dainty 
foot,  used  as  it  was  to  treading  the  rush-strewn  floors 
of  the  palace.  Raleigh  was  near,  observed  her  di- 
lemma, and,  instantly  divesting  his  shoulders  of  an 
elegantly  embroidered  cloak,  spread  it  upon  the 
ground,  with  an  air  of  chivalric  gallantry  that  de- 
lighted and  flattered  Elizabeth.  She  "trod  gently 
over,  rewarding  him  afterwards  with  many  suits,  for 
so  seasonable  a  tender  of  so  fair  a  footcloth." 

The  strength,  symmetry,  and  dignity  of  Haleigh's 
person,  his  striking,  handsome   features,    and   polite 
flourish  of  manner,  too  exaggerated  to  please  a  looker- 
on,  but  delightfully  flattering  to  Elizabeth's  unbound- 
G  10 


14:6         DISCOVERERS   AND   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

ed  vanity,  formed  a  tout  ensemble^  that  did  not  escjipe 
the  eye  of  such  a  connoisseur  of  manly  beauty,  as  was 
the  maiden  monarch.  She  singled  him  out  for  further 
consideration ;  for,  with  all  her  weaknesses,  Elizabeth 
would  bestow  her  confidence  or  patronage  only  upon 
those,  whose  genius  largely  ^!i^Q^  the  measure  of 
merit.  JS^ot  long  after  this  first  incidental  meeting, 
Kaleigh  stood  in  a  window  recess,  and,  at  a  moment 
when  the  queen  perceived  his  movements,  wrote  with 
a  diamond,  upon  one  of  the  panes  : 

•*Fam  ^ould  I  climb  but  that  I  fear  to  fall." 

Willing  to  encourage  her  promising  protege,  Eliza- 
beth added  the  unmusical,  but  significant  rhyme  : 

**  If  tby  beart  fail  thee,  do  not  climb  at  all.*' 

A  dispute  with  Lord  Grey,  in  presence  of  the  coun- 
cil, during  which  Raleigh  defended  himself  with  an 
acuteness  and  eloquence  that  gained  his  cause,  in  spite 
of  his  formidable  opponent,  brought  him  prominently 
and  favorably  before  the  public,  and  threw  him  inti- 
mately in  the  circles  of  the  nobility.  The  queen  soon 
honored  him  with  an  appointment  to  attend  Simier, 
the  French  ambassador,  to  France,  and,  afterwards,  to 
accompany  the  retinue  of  noblemen  who  conducted 
the  Duke  of  Anjou  to  Antwerp,  after  Elizabeth's  re- 
fusal of  his  hand.  Kaleigh  there  met  the  Prince  of 
Orange,  who  had  not  forgotten  his  youthful  services 
in  France,  and  who  persuaded  him  to  remain  afte? 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH. 


147 


the  others  haa  ^eparted,  and  made  him  the  .earer  of 
a  special  letter  to  the  English  monarch. 

About  this  time,  Ealeigh  received  a  license  for  the 
vending  of  wines  —  a  monopoly  which  so  speedily 
enriche'd  him,  that  he  was  enabled  to  prosecute  a  plan 
he  had  long  revolved.     He  had  for  years  been  inter- 
ested in  accounts  of  American  discoveries,  and  had 
engaged  in  Sir  Humphrey  Gilbert's  last  expedition, 
60  far  as  to  superintend,  and  bear  a  portion  of  the  ex- 
pense of,  one  of  the  largest  vessels  in  the  fleet.     The 
unhappy  fate  of  Sir  Humphrey  did  not  dishearten 
Ealeigh.     On  the  contrary,  he  immediately  applied 
for  a  renewal  of  that  navigator's  patent,  with  the  in- 
tention of  himself  continuing  explorations  towards  the 
north.     The  route  of  voyagers  Avas,  nearly  without 
exception,  to  the  West  Indies,  and  thence  to  Florida, 
or  to  the  south.     The  low  shores  that  swept  away  to 
the  north,  had  yet  been  untouched,  except  in  the  icy 

Arctic  regions. 

Elizabeth  approved  of  his  project,  and  granted  him 
a  patent  of  discovery,  in  the  spring  of  1584.     With 
the  assistance  of  two  wealthy  kinsmen,  Ealeigh  im- 
mediately equipped  two  barks,  and  placed  them  un- 
der the  command  of  Philip  Armadas   and  Arthur 
Barlow,  who  sailed  in  April  of  the  same  year.    They 
touched  at  the  Canaries  and  the  Indies,  and  arrived 
in  July  near  the  coast  of  Florida,  where  they  noted, 
with  delight,  indications  of  the  close  vicinity  of  luxu- 
riant shores,  in   the  richly  perfumed  breezes  that 
greeted  them.     Coasting  northward,  they  arrived  at 


.148         DISCOVERERS   AND  PIONEERS   OF   AMERICA. 

an  iBland  called  Wococon,  cast  anclior  and  landed. 
The  island  was  closely  wooded  with  cedar,  pine,  and 
sassafras.  Yines,  laden  with  grapes,  clambered  over 
theiQ  in  every  direction,  and  trailed  along  the  shore 
in  rich  exuberance,  the  broad  leaves  and  the  purple 
clusters  being  often  bathed  in  the  surging  waves. 

The  inhabitants  were  found  to  be  gentle,  faithful, 
and  hospitable.     They  fearlessly  approached  the  voy- 
agers, examined  them  with  the  utmost  simplicity,  of- 
fered abundant  provisions,  trafficked  with  them,  and 
urged  them  to  revisit  their  shores.     Some  suspicions, 
however,  were  entertained  of  the  good  faith  of  these 
savages.     As   soon   as  the  Indians   perceived   their 
doubts,  they  broke  their  arrows  in  pieces,  and  made 
every  possible   demonstration   of  friendliness.     The 
king  wore  a  crown  of  copper,  as  a  sign  of  his  rank, 
and,  upon  receiving  a  tin  plate  in  exchange  for  skins, 
immediately,  and  with  great  satisfaction,  converted  it 
into  a  breast-plate.     The  wife  of  one  of  the  principal 
caciques,  a  shrinking,  timid  Indian  beauty,  wore  a 
mantle  of  deer-skin,  and  a  string  of  white  coral  about 
her  head,  to   confine   her  long  and  loosely  flowing 
hair.     Bracelets,  necklaces,  and   ear-rings   of  large 
pearls,  profusely  decorated  her  person.     She  as  un- 
hesitatingly bestowed  them  upon  her  English  admi- 
rers,  as  a   modern  belle   would   scatter   rose-leaves 
among  her  devotees. 

The  captains  prosecuted  their  discoveries  no  larther 

.  north  than  Wococon,  but  returned  to  England,  with 

glowing  accounts  of  the  fruitful  country  they  had 


SIR   WALTER   PwALEIGH.  149 

seen.  Elizabeth  was  so  well  pleased  with  its  prom- 
ised advantages,  that  she  christened  it  Yirginia,  and 
encouraged  Kaleigh  to  complete  the  discovery  thus 
begun,  by  granting  an  additional  license  for  the  vend- 
ing of  wines,  to  defray  expenses. 

The  same  year,  the  order  of  knighthood  was  con* 
ferred  upon  Ealeigh  —  a  distinction  which  Elizabeth 
rarely  bestov  ed.  He  was  also  elected  knight  of  the 
shire  for  his  native  county  of  Devon.  The  following 
winter,  he  introduced  a  bill  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, to  confirm  his  patent  for  discovery.  After 
some  dijSculty,  it  passed  both  houses,  and  received 
the  queen's  assent.  The  same  year,  Elizabeth  put  in 
execution  her  design  of  peopling  Munster  with  an 
English  colony.  She  bestowed  upon  Sir  Walter  and 
his  heirs,  twelve  thousand  acres,  in  the  counties  of 
Cork  and  Waterford,  on  condition  of  his  planting  and 
improving  them,  and  in  reward  of  his  services  during 
the  rebellion. 

Notwithstanding  his  accumulation  of  business,  Ea- 
leigh prepared  a  second  expedition  to  Yirginia.  As 
before,  he  was  assisted  by  Sir  Eichard  Grenville,  who 
took  command  of  the  seven  vessels  forming  the  squad- 
ron, and  sailed  for  Plymouth,  on  the  ninth  of  April. 
1585.  After  narrowly  escaping  shipwreck,  they  ar- 
rived, in  three  months,  at  "Wococon.  They  were 
greeted  with  the  same  kindness  and  hospitality  as  be- 
fore, and  the  natives  piloted  them  in  boats  all  along 
tlie  shores  of  Albemarle  Sound,  and  the  adjacent  is- 
.ands.    The  happy  understanding  that  had  existed 


150         DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

between  the  natives  and  their  guests,  was  broken  by 
the  rash  and  unworthy  revenge,  taken  by  Grenville, 
for  the  stealing  of  a  silver  cup,  while  at  the  island  of 
Aquascogok.  The  offender  was  detected,  and  prom- 
ised to  return  it,  but,  because  the  Indian  delayed  its 
restoration,  Sir  Richard  ordered  the  town  to  be 
burned,  and  the  fields  of  corn  to  be  destroyed.  The 
terrified  natives  fled  to  the  woods,  quickly  learned 
the  lesson  of  treachery,  withdrew  their  confidence 
from  the  ungrateful  and  unjust  comers,  and  silently, 
but  surely,  nursed  a  revenge  which  descended  with 
fearful  mystery  upon  a  succeeding  colony. 

Sir  Kichard  Grenville  returned  to  England  in  Sep- 
tember, leaving  one  hundred  and  eight  persons  to 
attempt  a  settlement,  under  the  government  of  Ralph 
Lane.  They  fortified  themselves  upon  the  island  of 
Roanoke,  and  extended  their  discoveries  as  far  south 
as  Pamlico  Sound,  and  as  far  north  as  Chesapeake 
Bay.  Albemarle  Sound  and  Chowan  River  were 
also  explored.  But  while  absent  upon  these  expedi- 
tions, Wingina,  king  of  the  tribe  at  Roanoke,  formed 
a  secret  plot  to  destroy  a  people,  who  had  displayed 
their  power  so  signally  on  a  neighboring  island.  It  was 
ripe  for  execution,  when  the  unexpected  return  of 
Lane,  and  its  immediate  betrayal  to  him,  foiled  their 
purpose.  The  English  seized  all  the  canoes  moored 
at  the  island,  to  ensure  their  own  safety  ;  but  the 
movement  both  exasperated  and  alarmed  the  Indians. 
A  skirmish  ensued,  in  which  several  natives  were 
killed ;  the  rest  took  refuge  in  the  woods. 


SIE   WALTER   EALEIGH.  151 

Distrust  and  hatred  now  existed  on  both  sides, 
Wingina  stealthily  scoured  the  forests,  conferred  with 
his  warriors,  and  led  them,  with  cat-like  tread,  to  the 
outskirts  of  the  little  settlement-  But  the  English, 
whose  senses  were  acutely  alive  to  every  sign  of  dan- 
ger, discovered  each  attempt  at  a  secret  onset.  The 
natives  were  finally  outwitted.  Wingina  and  eight 
of  his  tribe  were  entrapped,  and  the  fate  they  had  de- 
signed for  the  colony,  was  inflicted  upon  themselves. 
Their  death,  so  far  from  intimidating  the  remainder 
of  the  tribe,  strengthened  their  purpose  of  ven- 
geance. 

Thus,  at  open  war  with  the  natives,  the  English  no 
longer  enjoyed  the  security  necessary  to  their  pros- 
perity. An  artist  and  a  historian  had  been  sent  by 
Raleigh,  to  obtain  as  complete  a  representation  of 
Virginia  as  possible,  but  their  employments,  as  well 
4S  those  of  the  explorers,  were  greatly  impeded  by 
the  awakened  hostility  of  the  natives.  With  one 
voice,  the  colonists  petitioned  Sir  Francis  Drake,  thou 
cruising  in  the  Atlantic,  and  who  touched  at  Roanoke, 
to  convey  them  to  England.  They  were  readily  ad- 
mitted on  board  the  fleet.  Freed  from  their  Ions:- 
continued  peril,  they  gladly  beheld  the  shores  of  the 
New  World  vailed  and  lost  in  the  haze  of  distance  ; 
but  not  more  exultingly  than  the  Indians  watched 
their  departure  and  disappearance,  in  the  huge  ca- 
noes they  had  once  been  simple  enough  to  believe 
were  borne  along  by  swift  clouds,  at  the  bidding  of 
the  godlike  pale-faces.     The  mantle  of  mightiness  had 


152         DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

fallen  from  their  shoulders,  and  revealed,  to  the 
Indians,  mortals  as  little  divine  as  themselves. 

Had  Lane  detained  the  colonists  a  fortnight  longer, 
Hoanoke  might  have  been  a  flourishing  settlement, 
rather  than  the  desert  it  became.  Soon  after  their 
departure.  Sir  Richard  Grenville  arrived,  with  a 
strong  reinforcement  of  men,  and  provision  for  two 
years.  Unable  to  gain  any  tidings  of  Lane  and  his 
colony.  Sir  Richard  left  £fty  men,  and  the  cargo,  upon 
the  island,  with  the  hope  of  relievino^  his  countrymen, 
if  they  had  wandered  into  the  wilderness. 

Lane,  however,  arrived  at  Plymouth,  in  July,  15S6. 
He  brought  with  him — probably  by  Raleigh's  sug- 
gestion —  the  first  tobacco  introduced  into  England. 
Raleigh  had  met  with  it  in  France,  and  he  now  made 
use  of  it  in  England.  It  is  amusingly  related  of  his 
initiatory  experience,  that  his  servant  entered  his 
study  one  day,  with  a  foaming  tankard  of  ale  and 
nutmeg  toast,  and  perceiving,  for  the  fii*st  time,  clouds 
of  smoke  issuing  from  his  master's  lips,  believed  he 
was  sufi'ering  an  internal  conflagration.  The  contents 
of  the  tankard  were  instantly  flung  in  Raleigh's  face, 
with  the  generous  intent  of  extinguishing  the  com- 
bustion, and  then  the  terrified  servant  ran  through 
the  house,  shouting  that  "  his  master  was  on  fire,  and 
would  be  burned  to  ashes,  before  they  could  come  to 
his  aid." 

Raleigh  was,  at  this  time,  high  in  Elizabeth's  favor. 
She  had  bestowed  many  gifts  upon  him,  and  highly 
estimated  his  worth  and  services.    He  was  the  oracle 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  153 

of  the  court,  and  a  leader  of  gayety  and  fashion.  As 
the  fashionable  world  delight  in  imitating  the  "  most 
received  star,"  and  do  not  presume  to  omit  even  the 
faults  of  their  model,  of  course  Sir  Walter  had  no 
sooner  pressed  the  tobacco-pipe  with  his  eloquent  lips, 
than  all  London  was  puffing  the  fragrant  smoke.  La- 
dies did  not  disdain  to  indulge  in  an  occasional  whiff, 
and  even  the  queen  permitted  it  in  her  presence. 
Raleigh  frequently  boasted  of  its  numberless  virtues, 
and  assured  his  partial  sovereign  that  "  no  one  under- 
stood them  better  than  himself,  for  he  was  so  well  ac- 
quainted with  all  its  qualities,  that  he  could  even  tell 
her  majesty  the  specific  weight  of  the  smoke  of  every 
pipe-full  he  consumed."  Elizabeth,  though  accus- 
tomed to  rely  upon  Raleigh's  good  faith,  believed  he 
was  imposing  upon  her  credulity,  and  laid  a  consid- 
erable wager  with  him,  that  he  could  not  prove  his 
assertion.  He  immediately  weighed  a  certain  amount 
of  tobacco,  smoked  it  deliberately  and  gracefully,  and, 
while  his  royal  spectator  smiled  at  the  curling  clouds, 
moving  away  beyond  the  power  of  his  boasted  com- 
putation, he  soberly  weighed  the  ashes  that  remained, 
and  convinced  her  majesty  that  the  difference  in 
weight  gave  the  proposed  result.  Elizabeth  admitted 
the  logic  of  his  experiment,  and  willingly  paid  the  bet, 
telling  him  "  that  she  knew  of  many  persons  who  had 
turned  their  gold  into  smoke,  but  he  was  the  first 
who  had  turned  smoke  into  gold." 

Although   disappointed    in  his    first   attempts    to 
settle   "Virginia,   Raleigli,   the   following  year,   sent 
G* 


154         DISCOVEEERS    AND   PIONEEES   OF   AMERICA. 

three  ships,  with  a  number  of  emigrants,  and  John 
White,  as  governor,  to  secure  the  settlement  of  the 
hostile  province.  The  colonists  were  directed  to 
found  the  "  City  of  Ealeigh,"  at  the  head  of  the 
Chesapeake  Bay,  but,  by  some  disagreement  with  the 
naval  officer,  they  were  obliged  to  make  Eoanoke 
their  destination.  They  arrived  at  that  fated  spot, 
after  a  wearisome  and  tempestuous  voyage,  expecting 
a  glad  welcome  from  the  fifty  who  had  peopled  Lane's 
deserted  fort.  But  not  a  sound,  nor  the  sight  of  a 
human  being  gladdened  them,  as  they  landed  upon 
the  desolate  island.  The  rude  houses  were  hiding- 
places  for  wild  beasts  and  crawling  serpents ;  the 
fort  lay  in  ruins  ;  the  gardens  were  overgrown  with 
tall,  rank  weeds  ;  and  the  only  traces  that  remained 
of  the  unfortunate  colony,  were  a  few  scattered,  hu- 
man bones.  The  long-cherished  vengeance  of  the  In- 
dians had  been  vented  upon  them,  and  now,  with  a 
whetted  taste  for  the  white  man's  blood,  lay  in  wait 
for  the  newly-arrived  victims. 

The  busy  industry  of  the  sturdy  English,  soon  re- 
stored a  thriving  aspect  to  the  twice  desolated  settle- 
ment. One  tribe  of  Indians  jDroved  amicable.  Their 
cacique,  Manteo,  had  accompanied  Sir  Kichard  Gren- 
ville  on  his  return  voyage  to  England,  and  from  that 
time  proved  a  faithful  friend  to  the  whites.  By  the 
direction  of  Sir  Walter,  he  received  Christian  bap- 
tism, and  was  created  a  feudal  baron,  with  the  title 
of  Lord  of  Roanoke  —  a  solitary  dignity,  and  one  that 
seems  mockingly  bestowed  upon  the  chieftain  of  a 


6UR    WALTER    EALEIGIT.  155 

race  whose  rights  were  usurped,  and  whose  existence 
was  soon  to  be  but  a  tradition, 

A  birth,  as  well  as  a  baptism,  is  recorded  in  the 
short  history  of  this  colony.  Eleanor  Dare,  the  wife 
of  one  of  the  assistants,  and  the  daughter  of  Governor 
White,  gave  birth  to  the  first  English  child  on  the 
soil  of  the  United  States.  It  was  named  Virginia,  in 
honor  of  its  birth-place.  Soon  after  these  events,  and 
before  the  departure  of  the  ships,  it  was  found  neces- 
sary to  dispatch  some  one  to  England  for  assistance, 
as  dependence  had  been  placed  upon  the  expected 
success  of  the  previous  colony.  None  was  so  compe- 
tent to  seek  it  as  Governor  White.  He  was  unani- 
mously chosen  ;  but  a  sense  of  honor  caused  him  to 
demur.  The  colony  had  been  entrusted  to  his  guar- 
dianship, and  he  was  unwilling  to  desert  it.  His 
scruples  were  finally  overruled,  and  he  departed  for 
England,  leaving  his  daughter  and  grand-child  as 
pledges  of  his  speedy  return. 

When  Governor  White  arrived  in  England,  he 
found  it  in  a  state  of  agitation  and  alarm,  on  account 
of  the  threatened  invasion  of  Spain.  Sir  Walter  Ka- 
leigh  was  one  of  the  queen's  council  of  war,  and  it 
was  impossible  to  gain  his  attention  to  the  danger  of 
his  distant  colony,  when  home  affairs  so  instantly  de- 
manded his  time.  The  importunities  of  the  governor, 
however,  secured  the  outfit  of  two  vessels,  under  Sir 
Richard  Grenville  ;  these  were  ready  for  sailing,  and 
only  waited  for  a  f a  r  wind,  when  the  increasing 
alarm  throughout  the  kingdom,  and  the  rapid  ap- 


166  DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA. 

proacli  of  the  Livincible  Armada,  caused  every  sliif 
in  port  to  be  retained  for  defence. 

"Whatever  were  the  feelings  of  White,  in  seeing  the 
colony  thus  neglected,  it  was  useless  to  plead  any 
further.  It  was  not  till  spring  approached,  that  he 
could  again  be  heard.  Raleigh  was  still  overwhelmed 
with  business,  and  had  made  heavy  disbursements  in 
the  cause  that  awakened  so  much  patriotism.  But 
he  was  deeply  interested  in  the  Virginian  settlement, 
and  his  sympathies  were  enlisted  in  its  apprehended 
fate.  He  ordered  two  ships  to  be  prepared,  which 
sailed  in  April,  1588,  with  fifteen  "  planters,"  and  an 
abundant  supply  of  provisions.  These  "  planters," 
more  bent  upon  the  pursuit  of  riches  than  upon  aiding 
the  colony,  went  in  chase  of  Spanish  ships  that  fell  in 
their  way,  and,  with  the  audacity  of  conqueroib,  fresh 
from  victory,  battled  with  the  superior  ships,  and  were 
defeated.  Rifled  and  disabled,  they  were  obliged  to 
return  to  England,  to  the  mortification  of  Sir  Walter, 
and  his  displeasure  at  this  fatal  delay. 

Raleigh's  resources  had  been  enlarged  by  the  queen, 
yet  his  expenditures  had  been  so  great  that  he  could 
no  longer  support  his  undertakings  in  America.  The 
failure  of  each  expedition  disheartened  him  ;  &nd  as 
he  saw  no  probability  of  a  reimbursement  of  the  forty 
thousand  pounds  of  his  own  and  his  friends'  fortunes, 
already  expended,  he  made  an  assignment  of  his  pa- 
tent to  several  London  merchants,  with  a  donation  of 
one  hundred  pounds  for  the  propagation  of  the  Chris 
tion  relicrion  in  Yirp'inia. 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  157 

An  expedition  was  not  in  readiness  till  the  follow- 
ing year,  1590,  in  which  Governor  White  embarked, 
with  the  faint  hope  of  relieving  his  countrymen. 
Three  years  had  passed  since  he  left  them.  Despite 
his  exertions,  not  a  vessel  had  touched  upon  their 
shores  during  those  years.  The  thought  of  his  be- 
loved and  suffering  daughter,  and  of  his  friends,  left 
to  perish  in  a  wilderness,  among  hostile  savages,  har- 
rassed  him  continually.  His  suspense  and  anxiety 
were  increased  by  the  failure  of  each  of  his  efforts,  at 
the  moment  of  expected  success.  He  scarcely  believed 
this  last  expedition  would  be  effected.  When  the 
fleet  finally  sailed,  his  eagerness  was  severely  tried 
by  the  obduracy  and  indifference  of  the  officers.  He 
wrote  bitterly  to  Hakluyt,  that  "  the  governors,  mas- 
ters, and  sailors  regarded  very  smally  the  good  of 
their  countrymen  in  Yirginia,"  as,with  all  his  urgent 
entreaties,  they  made  no  haste,  nor  cared  to  maintain 
the  shortest  route.  When  they  arrived  at  the  island 
of  Roanoke,  it  was  a  desert.  The  trees  and  grass 
were  blackened  and  burnt,  and  the  houses  were  de- 
molished, and  converted  into  palisades.  The  word 
Croatan  was  carved  upon  one  of  the  trees.  With  the 
faint  hope  of  finding  the  sufferers  on  the  island  of 
that  name,  the  ships  set  sail  again,  but,  owing  to 
storms  and  threatened  shipwreck,  returned  to  Eng- 
land without  further  search.  Whether  the  colonists 
lingered  through  the  long  horrors  of  a  famine,  or 
whether  they  amalgamated  with  the  friendly  Indians 


158         DISCO VEEERS   AND   TIOXEERS    OF    AMEKICA. 

and  were  scattered  over  the  continent,  or  if  they  were 
victims  to  the  hatred  of  the  same  tribe  that  sacrificed 
the  former  settlers  of  Roanoke,  is  impossible  to  know. 
History  leaves  them  there.  Kaleigh,  however,  re- 
peatedly attempted  to  discover  the  mystery,  perhaps 
at  the  instigation  of  White,  who  could  not  reconcile 
himself  to  the  fearful  fate  of  those  endeared  to  him 
by  precious  ties.  The  island  of  Hoanoke  is  to  this 
day  uninhabited,  except,  as  a  late  historian  says,  by 
"  the  intrepid  pilot  and  the  hardy  wrecker ; "  who,  "in 
their  natures,  wild  as  the  storms  to  which  their  skill 
bids  defiance,  unconscious  of  the  associations  by  which 
they  are  surrounded,  are  the  only  tenants  of  the  spot 
where  the  inquisitive  stranger  may  yet  discern  the 
ruins  of  the  fort,  round  which  the  cottages  of  the  new 
settlement  were  erected." 

Kaleigh's  ambition  was  now  centered  upon  martial 
acliievements.  The  military  spirit  of  the  oldest  vete- 
rans, as  well  as  of  the  youngest  scions  of  nobility,  was 
roused  by  the  signal  success  of  English  arms,  over  the 
boasted  Armada,  and  they  eagerly  engaged  in  a  newly- 
proposed  enterprise. 

The  jealousy  and  hatred  still  entertained  towards 
the  Spaniards,  found  opportunity  to  exhaust  itself  in 
the  cause  of  the  Portuguese  monarch,  who  had  been 
expelled  from  his  throne  by  King  Philip,  of  Spain. 
Don  Antonio  was  in  London,  at  the  time  of  the  defeat 
of  the  Armada,  and,  taking  advantage  of  events,  ap- 
plied to  Elizabeth  for  aid.     She  readily  granted  it . 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  159 

for,  proud  of  the  gallant  defence  sustained  against  the 
invaders,  she  was  willing  to  parade  her  power  in  the 
very  face  of  the  enemy. 

Ealeigh  engaged  in  this  expedition.    Though  bravo, 
ardent,  and  skillful,  he  failed  to  excel  the  host  of  com- 
petitors, equally  ambitious  to  be  the  heroes  of  battle. 
He  shared  with  others,  the  honor  of  a  golden  chain, 
from  the  hands  of  the  queen,  in  reward  for  his  ser- 
vices ;  but  this  could  not  have  satisfied  his  aspira- 
tions.    He  had  a  rival  at  court,  in  the  person  of  the 
fascinating  Earl  of  Essex  ;  and,  in  order  to  retain  his 
own  position,  left  no  means  untried,  to  signalize  him- 
self.    His  young  antagonist  had  a  powerful  supporter, 
in  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  who  had  befriended  Ealeigh, 
till  "  he  found  him  such  an  apprentice  as  well  enough 
knew  hov/  to  set  up  for  himself,"  and  then  successfully 
interposed  his  accomplished  son,  to  the  infinite  cha- 
grin and  uneasiness  of  the  old  favorite. 

Ealeigh  began  now  to  experience  the  fickleness  of 
royal  favor.  For  some  slight  oflfence  he  was  banished 
to  Ireland.  He  consoled  his  disgrace,  however,  by 
passing  his  exile  with  the  poet  Spenser,  in  his  beau- 
tiful retreat,  upon  the  banks  of  the  Mulla.  They  had 
formed  a  mutual  friendship  during  the  Irish  rebel- 
lion, when  Spenser  was  secretary  under  Lord  Grey. 
Queen  Elizabeth  had  bestowed  upon  the  poet  a  large 
grant  of  land,  on  condition  that  he  should  colonize  it ; 
with  that  in  view,  he  resided  at  his  Castle  of  Kilcol- 
man,  in  Armulladale,  which  he  happily  pictures  in 
"  Colin  Clout's  come  home  againe."     It  was  in  this 


I 


160  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

unfrequented  home,  that  Sir  Walter,  whom  he  names 
in  his  poem,  the  "Shepherd  of  the  Ocean,"  found 
him  one  day  — 

"  Under  the  foot  of  Mole,  that  mountain  hoar, 
Keeping  his  sheepe  among'st  the  cooly  shade 
Of  the  green  a'Jers,  by  the  Mullae's  shore." 

With  his  finely  cultivated  mind,  his  poetical  taste, 
and  his  ready  appreciation  of  genius,  Raleigh  must 
have  luxuriated  in  this  exchange  of  the  clamor,  in- 
trigue and  wearing  ambition  of  court  life,  for  the 
soothing  retirement  of  Kilcolman  Castle,  and  the  so- 
ciety of  the  imaginative  and  entertaining  Spenser. 
They  wandered  together,  along  the  banks  of  the  riv- 
er, lingered  under  the  shade  of  the  larch,  myrtle, 
and  rare  arbutus,  or  looked  from  the  high  towers  of 
the  castle  upon  the  reach  of  green  hill  and  dale, 
the  distant  ridges  of  the  Bogra  mountains,  and  the 
intervening  lakes. 

Spenser  amused  his  guest  with  the  romances  and 
wild  traditions  of  Ireland,  and  Raleigh  portrayed  the 
passions  and  intrigues  of  the  royal  palace.  The  mo- 
dest poet  at  length  ventured  to  produce  his  half-fin- 
ished manuscript  of  the  "  Faerie  Queene,"  for  his 
friend's  approval.  Raleigh  was  enthusiastic  in  his 
admiration,  and  urged  him  to  give  it  to  the  world. 
He  promised  his  introduction  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  and 
the  influence  a  favorite  can  exert,  on  the  condition  of 
his  accompanying  him  to  England.  Spenser  con- 
sented.    The  result  was,  the  gift  of  a  pension,  and  an 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  161 

honorable  notice,  but  not  the  hoped-for  appointment 
of  poet  laureate. 

Kaleigh  was  cordially  welcomed  back  by  the  queen. 
Always  fearless  and  open  in  his  address,  he  present- 
ed the  petitions  of  the  many  who  applied  to  him,  as 
freely  and  boldly  as  if  he  had  never  been  a  moment 
under  her  displeasure.  The  nature  of  the  applica- 
tions, though  often  perplexing,  heightened  the  medi- 
ator in  her  esteem,  and  she  seldom  gave  an  unfavor- 
able reply.  His  generous  interference  in  the  case  of 
a  clergyman,  unjustly  imprisoned,  and  in  that  of  a 
poor  officer,  deprived  of  his  dues,  are  among  the  ma- 
ny instances  of  his  noble  use  of  power.  "  He  was 
above  the  narrow  apprehension  of  repulse,  or  of  laying 
himself  under  obligations."  His  intercessions  were 
so  frequent,  at  this  time,  that,  on  one  occasion,  Eliza- 
beth impatiently  asked, —  "  When,  Sir  Walter,  will 
you  cease  to  be  a  beggar  ?  "  He  promptly  and  grace- 
fully replied, — "  When,  madam,  you  cease  to  be  a 
benefactress." 

In  1591,  Ealeigh  was  busily  engaged  in  preparing 
for  an  expedition  to  Panama,  with  the  intention  of 
capturing,  on  the  way,  the  Spanish  fleet,  which  was 
expected  to  return  from  America,  laden  with  newly 
gathered  riches.  The  proposition  so  well  recom- 
mended itself  to  the  public,  that  thirteen  ships  were 
equipped  by  private  adventurers,  and  two  others  were 
added  by  the  queen,  in  approbation  of  the  scheme. 
Sir  Walter  was  appointed  general  of  the  fleet.  With 
higli  expectations,  the  squadron  sailed  May  6th,  1 592. 

n 


162  UISOOVEREES    AND   PIONEEKS    OF   AMERICA. 

Unfavorable  winds  detained  them  upon  tlie  coast,  till 
the  season  for  executing  their  purpose,  passed.  Or- 
dei's  were  received  from  the  queen  to  abandon  the 
enterprise,  but  Raleigh  was  unwilling  to  give  way 
before  the  first  obstacle,  and  persisted  in  his  design. 
He  afterwards  received  intelligence,  that  the  king  of 
Spain  had  anticipated  his  measures,  by  detaining  all 
his  vessels  in  port,  and  ordering  that  no  treasures  be 
shipped  from  the  Indies.  Thus  foiled,  Sir  Walter  was 
obliged  to  return  to  England,  after  a  short  cruise,  with 
but  one  captured  vessel. 

Soon  after  his  return,  he  was  arrested  for  a  dishon- 
orable intrigure  with  one  of  the  queen's  maids  of 
honor,  Elizabeth  Throckmorton.  She  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  statesman  and  ambassador,  and  celebrated  for 
her  beauty.  That  her  envied  loveliness  should  have 
won  Sir  Walter,  and  that  he  should  have  dared  to  ad- 
mire any  beside  herself,  was  as  unpardonable  an  of- 
fence, in  the  eyes  of  the  vain  queen,  as  the  delin- 
quency of  principle  and  virtue.  She  was  disappoint- 
ed, too,  to  find  that  Raleigh's  flattery  was  as  insincere 
as  that  of  Essex,  whose  deeds  always  belied  his  words. 
She  revenged  herself,  and  punished  the  lovers,  by 
committing  both  to  the  Tower.  Haleigh  resorted  to 
an  efficacious,  but  servile  method  to  obtain  his  lib- 
erty. He  pretended  to  be  overpowered  with  griet 
at  his  separation  from  her  majesty.  One  day,  while 
the  royal  barge  was  passing  up  the  Thames,  he  af- 
fected to  become  frantic  at  the  sight,  and  attempted 
to  rush  down  a  stone  stair-case  that  led  from  his  win- 


SIR    WALTER    RALEIGH.  163 

dow.  The  keeper  interposed,  and  a  struggle  ensued, 
in  which  Raleigh  tore  off  the  jailer's  new  periwig, 
and  threatened  to  strike  him  with  his  dao:2:er.  He 
was  finally  carried  back  to  the  prison  chamber,  suffi- 
ciently satisfied  that  his  ferocious  attempt  to  see  her 
majesty,  would  be  duly  reported  to  her,  and  have  the 
desired  effect. 

He  also  wrote  a  letter  to  Sir  Eobert  Cecil,  intended 
for  the  eye  of  the  credulous  queen,  who  delighted  in 
nothing  so  much  as  to  be  praised  for  beauty  she  did 
not  possess.  "  How,"  wrote  he,  "  can  I  live  alone  in 
prison,  when  she  is  afar  off  —  I,  who  was  wont  to  be- 
hold her  riding  like  Alexander,  hunting  like  Diana, 
walking  like  Yenus  —  the  gentle  wind  blowing  her 
fair  hair  (both  false  and  red)  about  her  pure  cheeks, 
like  a  nymph.  Sometimes  sitting  in  the  shade  like  a 
goddess,  sometimes  playing  on  the  lute  like  Orpheus." 

Two  months  after  Raleigh  penned  this  absurd  and 
unmanly  epistle,  he  was  free.  He  immediately  mar- 
ried the  lady,  who,  with  him,  had  incurred  disgrace ; 
but  this  reparation,  so  far  from  appeasing  the  wrath 
of  the  queen,  magnified  the  offence,  for,  as  Agnes 
Strickland  pleasantly  says,  "  She  certainly  imagined 
that  it  was  part  of  her  prerogative,  as  a  maiden  queen, 
to  keep  every  handsome  gentleman  of  her  court  in 
single  blessedness,  to  render  exclusive  homage  to  her 
perennial  charms."  Yet,  the  same  year,  she  granted 
him  the  manor  of  Sherbourne,  in  Dorsetshire,  which 
he  embellished  with  the  utmost  care  and  taste 
G»*oves  and  artificial  lakes  ornamented  the  grounds, 


161  DISCOVERERS    AXD    PIOl'EKRS    OF   AMERICA. 

and  rare  shrubs  and  trees,  from  every  clime,  were 
gathered  here  to  convert  his  new  home  into  an  Eden. 
He  made  this  his  residence  during  his  retirement,  for 
Elizabeth  had  forbidden  his  appearance  at  court. 

Despite  the  queen's  displeasure.  Sir  Walter  was 
elected  a  member  of  the  Parliament  which  met  in 
the  spring  of  1593.  He  was  distinguished  for  his  el- 
oquence, having  a  fine  command  of  language,  and  an 
inexhaustible  fund  of  information,  from  which  he 
made  the  most  skillful  selections.  His  arguments 
were  rendered  forcible  by  well-timed  facts,  and  his 
imaginative  qualities  gave  beauty  and  finish  to  his 
gracefully  delivered  speeches. 

While  actively  engaged  in  Parliament,  he  found 
time  to  perfect  a  scheme  which  had  suggested  itself 
to  his  restless  mind,  during  his  imprisonment.  He 
had  long  sought  to  engage  in  some  memorable  ex- 
ploit, that  should  distinguish  him  above  all  the  nota- 
bles of  Elizabeth's  reign,  and  irresistibly  recommend 
him  to  her  favor.  The  one  he  now  purpooed,  was  to 
conquer  and  explore  the  storied  and  beautiful  empire 
of  Guiana.  Though  the  bravest  of  Spanish  cavaliers 
had  fallen  in  the  attempt,  and,  though  for  a  hundred 
years,  fleet  after  fleet,  and  army  after  army,  had  been 
sacrificed  in  the  blind  search  after  the  fabled  El  Do- 
rado, still  Paleigh  was  not  daunted.  The  very  dan- 
gers it  promised,  attracted  him.  Unlike  those  who 
had  gone  before,  he  studied  the  causes  of  so  many 
failures,  informed  himself,  thoroughly,  of  the  routes 
that  had    been    pursued,   consulted  every  possible 


SIR   WALtiSar.   RALEIGH.  165 

source  of  information  concerning  those  who  had  en- 
gaged in  previous  expeditions,  and,  from  all  he  could 
gather,  formed  a  plan  which,  being  divested  of  the 
errors  of  his  predecessors,  he  felt  confident  would 
succeed. 

He  first  dispatched  an  experienced  captain  to  re- 
connoitre the  coast,  and  learn  from  the  natives  the 
truth  of  narrations  which,  though  extravagant  and 
absurd,  were  credited  by  many  of  the  most  intelligent 
of  his  time. 

The  captain  returned  with  satisfactory  accounts  of 
the  empire's  grandeur,  and  of  the  treachery  of  the 
Spaniards  already  settled  there ;  they  having  massa 
cred  some  of  the  English  sailors,  after  decoying  them 
to  their  town,  on  pretense  of  furnishing  supplies.  This 
revived  Raleigh's  early  hostility  tow^ards  the  Span- 
iards, and  gave  zest  to  his  preparations. 

His  fleet,  consisting  of  five  ships,  sailed  for  Guiana 
February  sixth,  1595,  and  arrived  at  Trinidad  in 
March.  He  coasted  a  portion  of  that  island,  whose 
longest  measurement  is  between  sixty  and  seventy 
miles  ;  and  traveled  for  miles  on  foot,  along  the  shore 
under  the  shade  of  banyan  groves,  some  of  whose 
thousand  branches  "  planted  themselves  in  the  sea, 
and  bore  oysters."  The  banyan  had  its  place  among 
the  fables  of  Guiana,  as  the  "  Tree  of  Knowledge." 

At  Puerto  de  los  Espauoles,  the  voyagers  found  a 
company  of  Spaniards,  who  gave  them  valuable  infor 
mation  of  the  topography  and  resources  of  the  coun- 
try.    The  city  ■)f  St.  Joseph  was  but  a  short  distance 


166  DISCOVERERS    A^TD    PIONICEKS    OF    AMERICA. 

from  that  settlement.  Kaleigli  was  determined  to 
revenge  himself  upon  it,  for  the  massacre  of  his  men, 
the  previous  year ;  he  was  unwilling,  too,  to  leave  so 
formidable  and  wily  an  enemy  in  his  rear,  and  hoped 
also,  to  gain  the  friendship  of  the  natives,  by  deliv- 
ering some  of  their  principal  caciques,  who  were  fam- 
ishing in  chains,  under  the  cruel  power  of  Berreo,  th^ 
Spanish  governor.  For  these  reasons,  he  surprised 
and  burned  ♦.he  city,  and  took  the  governor  prisoner. 
He  instantly  released  the  suffering  captives  who, 
years  afterwards,  with  Indian  tenacity  of  memory, 
gratefully  reminded  him  of  his  timely  aid.  This  act, 
applauded  as  '^  noble  "  by  some  of  Raleigh's  biogra- 
phers, would  be  a  most  generous  one,  were  not  selfish 
motives  too  apparent,  to  name  it  anything  higher  than 
the  skillful  manoeuvring  of  a  conqueror. 

Raleigh  prepared  to  leave  his  ships  at  Trinidad,  and 
to  proceed,  with  one  hundred  men,  to  ferret  out  the 
wonders  of  Guiana.  A  small  galley,  a  barge,  two 
wherries,  and  a  ship's  boat,  were  the  insignificant  ac- 
companiments of  the  expedition.  Berreo  warned 
Raleigh  of  the  difficulties  he  would  meet,  and  at- 
tempted to  dissuade  him  from  his  purpose  ;  but,  blind- 
ed by  the  same  false  imaginings,  the  same  visionary 
dreams,  that  had  enticed  others,  he  pushed  on  with  a 
vigor  and  resolution,  that  increased,  rather  than  di- 
minished, at  the  dismal  prospect  his  prisoner  painted. 

The  strong  current  between  the  continent  and  the 
island  of  Trinidad,  occasioned  by  the  outward  flow 
of  the  Orinoco,  renders  the  approach  of  vessels  to  tho 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  167 

main  land  extremely  dangerous.  Dark  rocks  raise 
their  isolated  heads  in  the  midst  of  the  solitary  gulf ; 
the  green-colored,  and  rapid  waters  of  the  Orinoco 
dash  over  them  in  milk-white  foam,  struggling  furi- 
ously with  the  dark  blue  waves  of  the  sea.  Into  this 
fearful  play  of  waters,  Raleigh  fearlessly  plunged, 
and  marvelously  escaped  the  peril  Berreo  had  prom- 
ised at  the  outset.  But  when  arrived  among  the  num- 
berless outlets  of  the  great  river,  intricately  braided, 
and  apparently  flowing  in  every  direction,  he  was 
completely  bewildered.  At  length,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  an  old  Indian  guide,  the  river  of  the  "  Red 
Cross  "  was  selected  and  pursued. 

As  had  been  foretold,  the  explorers  soon  began  to 
sufler  from  the  drenching  rains,  the  burning  heat,  and 
the  destruction  of  their  provisions  by  exposure  to  the 
weather.  But,  they  continued  their  course  with  un- 
failing courage,  till,  striking  into  the  Amana,  one  of 
the  largest  tributaries  of  the  Orinoco,  they  were 
obliged  to  row  against  a  strong  current,  between 
banks  set  with  prickles  and  thorns,  and  lined  with 
overhanging  trees.  The  branches  were  interlacea 
above  them,  shutting  out  every  stirring  breeze,  and 
enclosing  a  humid,  hot  atmosphere,  laden  with  mos- 
quitoes and  swarms  of  minute  insects.  The  intermi- 
nable windings  of  this  labyrinthian  stream, —  the  im- 
possibility of  landing,  and  the  effects  of  unaccus- 
tomed heat  and  constant  labor,  made  them  "  ready 
to  give  up  the  ghost."  They  would  have  turned 
back,  had  not  Raleigh,  who  shared  their  toil  and  pri- 


168  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

vation,  urged  tliem  on,  by  recounting  the  reward  they 
would  find  in  the  golden  city  of  Manoa. 

When  at  the  last  extremity  of  suffering,  "  in  des- 
pair and  discomfort,  the  current  every  day  stronger, 
themselves  growing  weaker,  their  bread  at  the  last, 
and  no  drinke  at  all,"  they  were  suddenly  relieved  by 
emerging  into  an  open  and  beautiful  country,  inter- 
sected by  narrow  streams,  and  occasional  groves.  An 
Indian  village  greeted  their  eyes,  in  this  oasis  of  the 
wilderness  they  had  traversed.  Here  they  gladly 
refreshed  themselves  with  the  rude  fare  and  kind  hos- 
pitality of  the  natives.  Fifteen  days  of  their  re- 
sumed voyage  brought  them  to  the  Orinoco,  and  in 
sight  of  the  long  looked  for  mountains  of  Guiana, 
where  were  hidden  the  coveted  mines,  or  among 
whose  fastnesses  El  Dorado  was  concealed.  They 
sailed  up  the  magnificent  river,  that,  ocean-like,  had  its 
shoals,  its  foaming  billows,  its  islands  and  rocks,  and 
coasted  along  its  banks,  that  rolled  back  in  rich,  un- 
dulating plains,  or  were  bordered  with  cocoas  and 
towering  palms.  They  anchored,  at  length,  in  the 
port  of  Morequito,  three  hundred  miles  from  the  sea. 

Exploring  parties  were  now  sent  out  in  every  direc- 
tion, to  ascertain  the  nearest  route  to  the  mountains, 
or  to  seek  the  best  gold-yielding  soil.  Sir  Walter, 
with  a  small  company,  went  in  search  of  the  Falls 
of  Caroli,  to  whose  roaring  they  listened  while  twenty 
miles  distant.  The  scene  that  met  Kaleigh's  eye  in- 
spired him  with  a  poet's  enthusiasm.  Doubtless,  the 
belief  in  the  close  vicinity  of  the  phantom  city,  and 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  169 

the  sure  prospect  of  snecess  after  all  their  hardships, 
threw  a  brilliant  colorin;^  over  the  varied  and  strikinir 
landscape  which  Ealeigh  saw  from  the  heights  of 
Caroli.  Twelve  falls,  "  every  one  as  high  over  the 
other  as  a  church  tower,"  thundered  and  foamed  down 
a  channel,  between  tree-lined  rocks,  into  the  plain 
below,  and  rolled  along,  with  a  swift  current,  that 
poured  into  the  Orinoco.  The  windings  of  the  Ama- 
na  were  visible  in  the  glimpses  of  a  distant  plain  ;  the 
intervening  hills  were  crowned  with  the  magnificent 
.  luxuriance,  which  foliage  attains  only  in  the  warm- 
est climes ;  and,  far  beyond,  hazy  mountains  were 
outlined  against  the  sky.  Deer,  tame  as  if  accus- 
tomed to  a  keeper's  call,  bounded  through  valleys 
<?nameled  with  gorgeous  flowers,  and  "  cranes  and 
herons  of  white,  crimson,  and  carnation,  dipped  their 
long  necks  at  the  river's  side." 

Invigorated  by  the  contrast  between  this  pictur- 
esque region,  and  the  desolate  one  lately  traversed, 
Raleigh  and  his  companions  wandered  for  miles,  to 
acquaint  themselves  more  minutely  with  the  resour- 
ces of  the  country.  They  journeyed  with  little  fa- 
tigue over  the  "  faire,  greene  grasse,"  listening  to  the 
"  birdes  that,  towards  the  evening,  sang  on  every  tree 
with  a  thousand  severall  tunes."  They  searched 
among  the  rocks  for  gold,  and  precious  stones,  dig- 
ging out  marcasite,  and  mother-of-gold,  and  sap- 
phires, with  the  point  of  the  dagger.  So  infatuated 
were  these  adventurers,  that,  as  Raleigh  himself  says^ 

"  every  stone  that  we  stouped  to  take  up,  promised 
H 


170        DISCOYEKEES   AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

either  gold  or  silver  by  his  complexion."  With  equal 
credulity,  they  stored  up  the  tales  of  the  Indians  con- 
cerning a  tribe  of  men  "  whose  heads  appeared  not 
above  their  shoulders." 

"With  little  else  than  these  Oriental  fables  and  mock 
metalsj  the  exj^lorers  reunited  at  the  port  of  Morequito. 
Unable  to  penetrate  farther  into  the  country,  and, 
fearful  of  being  detained  by  the  swelling  rivers,  they 
decided  to  return  without  delay  to  the  sea-coast.  Long 
days  and  nights  of  suffering,  were  the  accompani- 
ments of  their  sea-ward  voyage.  Tlie  swift  and  dan- 
gerous currents,  and  the  surging  and  boiling  of  the 
Orinoco,  occasioned  by  the  influx  of  flooded  streams, 
rendered  the  safe  passage  of  boats  nearly  impossible. 
The  foaming  rapids,  often  a  mile  in  extent ;  the  thick 
vapor  which  continually  hung  above  those  cataracts, 
and  concealed  the  shore,  excejDt  where  tall  palms  shot 
up  their  leafy  tops ;  the  massive,  iron-black  rocks  that 
towered  np  from  the  torrent,  often  crowned  with 
trees,  and  oftener  with  gorgeons,  diamond-sprayed 
flowers  in  clusters,  or  hanging  in  disheveled  mats  over 
the  dark  ledges  —  altogether,  formed  a  scene  of  beau- 
ty and  grandeur,  in  which  the  bold  pencil  of  a  Turner 
might  have  reveled. 

After  skillfully  piloting  their  frail  boats  down  this 
leviathan  river,  and  narrowly  escaping  shipwreck  at 
its  mouth,  during  a  storm,  the  exhausted  crews  safely 
reached  Trinidad.  They  beheld,  with  tears  and  thanks- 
giving, their  ships  still  anchored  in  the  bay.  Prepa- 
rations were  immediately  made  to  return  to  England. 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  171 

The  arrival  of  the  fleet  in  England,  occasioned 
much  curiosity,  as  expectation  was  on  tip-toe  for 
wonderful  revelations.  Credulous  as  was  the  age, 
and  prepared  as  the  millions  were,  by  Spanish  adven- 
tures, for  marvelous  tales  of  the  I^ew  World,  no  one 
would  believe  the  assertions  of  Raleigh  and  his  com- 
pany. Possessed  of  unbounded  credulity  himself, 
Raleigh  gravely  repeated  the  Indian  accounts,  and 
pictured  Guiana  in  glowing  colors.  He  published  an 
account  of  his  voyage,  and  entreated  the  queen  to 
possess  herself  of  an  empire  that  exceeded  every  other 
on  the  globe,  in  population  and  riches.  But,  contra- 
ry to  Raleigh's  expectation,  her  majesty  took  no  note 
whatever  of  his  services.  His  absence  and  occupa- 
tion, so  far  from  restoring  him  to  her  favor,  had  in- 
creased her  coldness  towards  him.  His  numerous 
enemies,  instead  of  forgetting  him,  as  he  had  hoped, 
took  advantage  of  his  absence  to  influence  Elizabeth 
strongly  against  him. 

Disappointed  in  his  reception,  he  turned  to  the 
people  for  sympathy  and  cooperation  in  his  plans. 
An  enterprise,  which  had  yet  produced  nothing  but 
fables,  called  forth  the  derision  of  the  populace.  Ra- 
leigh's reputation  for  veracity  had  never  been  honor- 
able, and  what  he  now  asserted  had  no  weight  what- 
ever. Some  charo-ed  him  with  havino;  lain  hidden  in 
England,  during  the  whole  voyage,  and  that  his  ac- 
count was  a  gross  fabrication.  Even  historians  re- 
corded it  as  an  impudent  imposture.  ITot  the  least 
credit  was  given  him  for  his  unequaled  success  in 


172        DISCOVEEERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

penetrating  a  country  peopled  with  hostile  tribes, 
without  sacrificing  the  life  of  a  single  Indian.  Every 
otlier  explorer  of  American  forests,  had  drenched  the 
soil  with  the  blood  of  its  rightful  possessors. 

Haleigh  eloquently  rejDclled  the  false  charges  show- 
ered from  every  quarter.  He  wrote  that,  though  he 
had  returned  "  beggared  and  withered,"  his  remain- 
ing years  were  "  bequeathed  to  Ralena,"  as  he  termed 
the  region  of  the  Orinoco.  He  was  unwilling,  how- 
ever, to  accompany  another  expedition,  without  the 
countenance  of  the  crown,  for,  said  he,  "  It  had  sorted 
ill  with  the  offices  of  honor,  which,  by  her  majesty's 
grace,  I  hold  this  day  in  England,  to  run  from  cape 
to  cape,  and  place  to  place,  for  the  pillage  of  ordina- 
ry prizes."  His  purpose  had  been  to  colonize  Guiana. 
Foiled  in  that,  he  determined  at  least  to  maintain  in- 
tercourse with  the  natives,  and,  if  possible,  yet  dis- 
cover Mantoa.  "With  the  assistance  of  Sir  Eobert 
Cecil,  and  Howard,  and  by  means  from  his  private 
purse,  he  prepared  and  sent  two  ships,  under  Captain 
Keymis.  The  voyage  occupied  but  a  few  months, 
and  nothing  essential  was  accomplished. 

During  the  year  1596,  Raleigh  was  engaged,  by 
royal  appointment,  in  the  expedition  of  Cadiz.  Es- 
sex and  the  lord-high-admirdl  held  the  chief  com- 
mand in  the  expedition,  but  a  council  of  five  was 
appointed,  to  keep  them  in  harmony.  Raleigh  was 
one  of  the  council.  The  fleet  consisted  of  one  hnii- 
dred  and  fifty  vessels.  Favoring  winds  gave  them  a 
rapid  run  to  the  Spanish  coast,  and  such  had  been  tho 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  17^ 

celerity  of  the  whole  movement,  and  their  success  in 
intercepting  every  vessel  which  could  have  conveyed 
the  news,  that  they  anchored  in  St.  Sebastian's  Bay, 
near  Cadiz,  before  the  Spaniards  had  scented  the  ap- 
proaching danger. 

An  action,  in  which  Ealeigh  bare  a  conspicuous 
part,  soon  commenced  with  the  powerful  Mexican 
and  Spanish  fleets,  stationed  in  the  harbor.     The  con- 
test was  close  and  fierce.     Ship  after  ship  was  sunk 
or  blown  up.     Before  night  the  Spaniards  were  signal- 
ly defeated.     Their  soldiers  "  tumbled  into  the  sea  like 
coals  out  of  a  stck."     "  The  spectacle,"  says  Ealeigh, 
"  was   very   lamentable   on    their  side  ;    for   many 
drowned  themselves;  many,  half-burnt,  leaped  into 
the  water ;  very  many  hanging  by  the  ropes'  ends, 
by  the  ships'  sides,  under  the  water  to  the  very  lips  ; 
many  swinging  with  grievous  wounds,  strucken  un- 
der water,  and  put  out  of  pain ;  and  withal,  so  huge 
a  fire,  and  such  tearing  of  the  great  ordnance,  in  the 
San  Philip,  and  the  rest,  when  the  fire  came  to  them, 
as,  if  any  man  had  a  desire  to  see  hell  itself,  it  was 
there  most  lively  figured." 

Every  Spanish  ship  in  the  harbor  was  destroyed, 
except  two,  captured  hj  Ealeigh.  The  army  imme- 
diately landed,  carried  the  city  of  Cadiz  by  a  coii^ 
de  main,  and  pillaged  it.  Though  disabled  by  a 
wound  during  the  day,  Ealeigh,  after  being  carried 
ashore,  mounted  a  horse,  and  entered  the  city  with 
the  rest,  but  extreme  pain  obliged  him  to  return  to 
his  battered  ship. 


174  DISCO VEEKRS    AND   PIONEERS    OF    AISIEKICA. 

In  fifteen  days  from  their  arrival,  the  army  reem 
barked,  sacked  the  town  of  Faro,  in  Portugal,  on  their 
homeward  sail,  and  laden  with  the  riches  of  Cadiz, 
and  the  literary  treasures  of  the  famous  library  of 
Osorius,  arrived  at  Plymouth  the  tenth  of  August. 

Essex  hastened  to  report  the  victory  to  the  queen. 
^Notwithstanding  his  generous  nature,  he  felt  hurt  at 
the  glory  his  inferior  in  command,  and  early  rival, 
had  obtained.  Yet  it  was  impossible  to  withhold 
from  Raleigh  the  credit  of  having  secured  victory,  by 
his  timely  interference  with  an  absurd  design,  pro- 
posed by  the  lord-high-admiral.  He  planned  the  ac- 
tion, and  skillfully  directed  its  execution.  This  dis- 
play of  his  ability  and  gallantry,  restored  him  to 
public  esteem.  His  courteous  conduct  towards  his 
enemy,  Essex,  who  had  been  the  means  of  his  con- 
tinued expulsion  from  court,  also  elicited  the  ad- 
miration of  his  associate  officers,  during  the  exjiedi- 
tion.  The  frank  and  fearless  Essex,  however,  too 
readily  perceived  the  cunning  motives  of  Haleigh,  to 
be  cajoled  into  friendship. 

During  their  absence,  Sir  Eobert  Cecil  had  been 
appointed  Fecretary  of  state.  He  was  the  malignant 
enemy  of  Essex,  and  the  friend  of  Paleigh  —  a  man, 
however,  whose  enmity  was  less  dangerous  than  his 
friendship.  Ambitious,  intriguing,  sarcastic,  cold, 
and  subtle,  he  never  hesitated  to  sacrifice  a  friend  to 
his  own  interest.  He  at  length  boldly  crushed  the 
noble  Essex  in  his  serpent  coils  ;  —  for  Paleigh,  he 
ro?''^rved  a  fatal  charm,  like  that  which  attracts  the 


SIR   WALTEli   KALETGH.  175 

unwary  bird,  in  narrowing  circles,  till  it  falls  a  help- 
less victim  before  the  cold,  glistening  eye  of  its  en- 
chanter. 

To  effect  a  reconciliation  between  these  two  power- 
ful rivals,  and  thus  secure  his  own  restoration  at  court, 
was  an  apparently  impossible  scheme,  yet  one  to 
which  Raleigh  devoted  himself  on  his  return  from 
Spain.  Contrary  to  the  expectations  of  the  gossiping 
public,  and  even  the  parties  themselves,  he  succeeded. 
This  skillful  stroke  did  for  him  what  his  brilliant  ex- 
ploits at  Cadiz  had  failed  to  accomplish.  He  was  at 
once  restored  to  Elizabeth's  confidence  ;  was  reinsta- 
ted captain  of  her  guard,  and  went  boldly  to  the 
privy-chamber,  as  of  old. 

His  attention  was  now  absorbed  in  a  second  expe 
dition  to  Spain,  to  thwart  Philip's  design  of  invading 
both  England  and  Ireland,  in  revenge  for  the  Cadiz 
triumph.  A  secondary  plan  occupied  his  leisure. 
This  was  the  execution  of  a  third  voyage  to  Guiana, 
intrusted  to  Captain  Berrie.  The  voyage  occupied 
little  more  than  six  months,  and  produced  nothing 
remarkable. 

The  chief  command  of  the  Spanish  expedition  was 
conferred  upon  the  Earl  of  Essex.  Lord  Thomas 
Howard  was  aj)pointed  vice-admiral,  and  Sir  Walter 
Kaleigh  rear-admiral.  The  fleet,  consisting  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty  sail,  left  Plymouth  the  eighteenth 
of  August.  The  Azore  Islands  was  its  destination,  as 
.  ntelligence  had  been  received,  that  the  Spanish  Ar- 
mada was  stationed  there,  to  protect  the  rich  Indian 


176        DISCOVERERS    AND   PI02fEER3    OF   AMERICA. 

fleet,  daily  exj)ected.  Upon  arriving  at  the  island  of 
Flores,  however,  they  discovered  the  rumor  to  be 
false,  and,  mortified  at  having  been  duped,  immedi- 
ately decided  upon  taking  possession  of  the  islands. 
A  division  of  attack  was  made  —  Fayal  being  re- 
served for  Essex  and  Kaleigh.  Essex  accordingly 
set  sail,  and  left  orders  for  the  rear-admiral  to  follow 
him.  Ealeigh  obeyed,  but,  not  speedily  coming  in 
sight  of  his  commander's  squadron,  steered  with  his 
own  fleet  for  Fayal,  by  the  shortest  course.  Upon 
arriving  there  the  next  morning,  he  could  nowhere 
perceive  Essex. 

The  enemy  were  busy  fortifying  the  coast  and  town. 
Every  hour  gave  them  superior  advantage.  Raleigh 
awaited  the  arrival  of  the  leader  as  long  as  his  pa- 
tience could  brook  the  delay,  and  then  decided  upon 
an  immediate  attack.  "With  two  hundred  and  sixty 
men,  he  eff'ected  a  landing,  amidst  a  storm  of  bullets ; 
clambered  up  the  rocks,  carried  the  fortifications,  and 
put  the  Spaniards  to  flight.  Two  batteries,  one  com- 
manding the  road,  the  other  the  town,  were  to  be  re- 
connoitred. The  foreign  troops,  in  his  service,  were 
unwilling  to  pass  thus  before  the  cannon's  mouth. 
Impatient  at  their  hesitation,  he  called  for  his  casque 
and  cuirass,  and  himself,  with  an  officer  and  a  few 
soldiers,  rode  up  to  the  town,  and  made  the  necessary 
observations.  Stones  and  cannon-shot  greeted  them 
effectively,  for  the  accompanying  officer  was  wound- 
ed, two  soldiers  lost  their  heads,  and  the  admiral's 
clothes  were  repeatedly  torn  with  the  shot. 


BIR   WALTER   KALEIGH.  177 

Upon  ordering  np  liis  forces,  tlie  fort  was  taken  at 
the  first  onset.  Tlie  Spaniards  abandoned  it  without 
a  shot  in  its  defence.  The  town  was  also  deserted, 
and  immediately  occupied  by  the  English  ;  thus,  be- 
fore night,  Raleigh  found  himself  in  possession  of  the 
whole  island. 

The  next  morning,  Essex  anchored  in  the  harbor, 
and,  to  his  great  surprise  and  anger,  found  his  rival 
enjo3^ing  the  honors  he  had  in  store  for  himself. 
With  his  usual  impetuosity,  he  ordered  the  arrest  of 
every  officer  engaged  in  the  afiair,  and  arraigned  Ra- 
leigh for  violating  the  instructions,  that  none  should 
land  the  troops  without  the  general's  presence.  The 
admiral  vindicated  himself,  and,  with  dignity  and 
calmness,  assured  the  jealous  earl  that  the  re^jtric- 
tions  applied  only  to  captains  and  inferior  officei's, 
while  he  was  a  principal  commander.  Essex  was 
pacified,  but  his  dependents,  who  had  studiously  rep- 
resented Raleigh's  conduct  as  an  insolent  contempt 
of  his  superior  command,  were  greatly  chagrined  at 
the  failure  of  this  occurrence,  to  create  dissension  be- 
tween the  newly-reconciled  rivals. 

The  remainder  of  the  expedition  was  a  succession 
of  failures.  Essex,  better  qualified  for  a  statesman 
and  soldier  than  the  commander-in-chief  of  a  naval 
armament,  lost  his  opportunity  to  capture  the  Spanish 
fleet,  and,  instead,  occupied  himself  with  various  in- 
significant exploits.  The  anger  of  the  queen  was 
vented  in  severe  reproaches  upon  Essex.  Raleigh 
was  highly  commended,  but  no  honors  were  bestowed 
H*  12 


178         DISCOVERERS   AND    PIONEERS   OF  AJ^IERICA. 

upon  him,  as  upon  Essex,  soon  after.     He  immedi- 
ately retired  to  Sherbourne — a  country-seat  wliicli  he 
had  embellished  with  the  greatest  care.     He  here 
spent  the  happiest  hours  of  his  life,  in  the  society  of 
his  elegant  and  devoted  wife,  together  with  the  dis- 
tinguished literati  of  that  reign,  who  frequented  his 
attractive  country-seat.     His  retirement  was  varied 
by  occasional  attendance   at   conrt.     His   influence 
was  greater,  and  he  was  more  distinguished  by  royal 
favor,  at  this  time,  than  at  any  previous  period.     He 
figured  conspicuously  in  the  masques,  tournaments, 
pageants,  and  martial  games,  which  formed  a  large 
part  of  the  entertainments  of  Elizabeth's  stately  court. 
Sir  Walter  vied  with  Essex  and  other  courtiers  in  the 
magnificence  of  his  dress.     Jewels  blazed  upon  his 
shoes,  sword,  and  belt ;  a  fortune  was  expended  in 
the  dazzling  display. 

Notwithstanding  a  slight  lameness  and  deformity, 
which  he  first  suffered  during  his  Guiana  voyage,  he 
outshone  the  accomplished  Essex.  His  appearance 
in  the  tilt-yard,  on  one  occasion  of  the  queen's  birth- 
day, caused  a  renewal  of  their  old  hostility.  Ra- 
leigh's superior  skill  in  the  use  of  weapons,  and  his 
splendid  attire  and  retinue,  threw  his  rival  in  the 
shade.  He  carried  ofiF  the  victory,  in  presence  of  the 
assembled  court,  augmented  in  brilliancy  by  the 
royal  presence,  and  the  accompanying  train  of  fair 
attendants.  Essex  burned  with  jealousy  and  vexa- 
tion. Like  a  spoiled  child,  he  fretted  himself  into  an 
undeserved  severity  of  punishment,  while  the  crafty 


BIK    WALTER   KALEIGH.  179 

Cecil  and  the  deceptive  Raleigli  provided  tlie  rods, 
which  her  majesty  applied,  before  she  discovered  they 
were  thickly  set  with  thorns. 

At  their  instigation,  the  government  of  Ireland  was 
given  to  Essex  —  an  appointment  which  he  had  de- 
manded for  a  friend.  The  stern  refusal  of  his  request 
occasioned  that  extraordinary  and  undignified  scene, 
in  which  Essex  lost  all  command  of  his  fiery  temper, 
and  received  a  box  on  the  ear,  in  token  of  the  queen's 
exhausted  patience.  To  rid  herself  of  his  insolence, 
and  to  afibrd  him  an  honorable  exile  from  her  pres- 
ence, Elizabeth  obliged  him,  at  the  suggestion  of  his 
enemies,  to  accept  the  appointment  he  had  eagerly 
claimed  for  another.  He  concealed  his  chagrin  at 
this  undesired  honor,  and  received  with  haughty 
pride,  the  mocking  congratulations  of  Haleigh  and 
Cecil.  As  they  anticipated,  his  ruin  quickly  follow- 
ed. Thus  Raleigh  paved  the  way  for  his  own  fall. 
He  was  enough  of  a  political  gamester,  to  perceive 
that  the  removal  oi  the  formidable  favorite  left  a  new 
rivalry  between  himself  and  Cecil,  and  that  they 
could  not  long  stand  together,  under  a  mask  of  friend- 
ship which  circumstances  had  enforced.  He  relied 
upon  his  own  ability  to  extricate  himself,  but,  skilled 
as  he  was  in  duplicity,  he  was  no  match  for  his  cun- 
ning rival,  who,  Jesuit-like,  purred  about  his  victim, 
till  his  deep-laid  and  far-reaching  schemes  were  per- 
fected. 

Lulled   into   temporary   security,  by  the   helping 
hand  Cecil  lent  to  his  promotion,  Raleigh  enjoyed 


180  DISCO VEREKS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

tlie  rojal  favor  with  greater  distinction  tlian  ever. 
The  government  of  Jersey  was  bestowed  upon  him  ; 
he  was  commissioned  with  secret  embassies,  and  at- 
tended the  queen  upon  her  frequent  and  costly  excur- 
sions, from  one  palace  to  another.  He  also  sat  in 
Parliament,  where  his  eloquent  speeches,  his  liberal 
views,  and  his  generous  acquiescence  in  the  repeal 
of  monopolies,  though  against  his  own  interest,  did 
more  for  his  lasting  fame,  than  any  of  his  previous 
exertions,  and  imparted  to  his  reputation  an  honor 
and  dignity,  which  had  too  often  been  found  wanting 
in  his  earlier  career. 

He,  at  this  time,  disposed  of  his  estates  in  Ireland, 
which  drew  too  heavily  upon  his  purse.  The  im- 
provement of  those  estates  had  not  been  rapid,  owing 
to  his  absence.  He  founded  a  free  school,  however, 
in  one  of  his  townshijDS.  Ireland  is  also  indebted  to 
him  for  the  introduction  of  the  j)otato,  from  Yirginia.* 
The  first  of  that  now  most  important  product  was 
planted  at  Youghal,  a  seaport  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Blackwater,  which  is  still  embellished  by  the  house 
and  gardens  of  Ealeigh.  Evidence  of  his  fondness 
for  rural  elegance,  remains  in  the  rare  and  perfumed 
shrubs  that  yet  ornament  the  gardens.     The  flower- 

*  It  is  said  that  Sir  "Walter  Raleigli  -vras  the  first  discoverer  of  the 
value  of  the  potato  as  a  food  for  man.  One  day  he  ordered  a  quan- 
tity of  dry  weeds  to  be  collected  and  burnt.  Among  them  were 
some  dried  potatoes.  After  the  bon-fire,  these  potatoes  were  picked 
up,  thoroughly  roasted.  Sir  Walter  tasted,  and  pronounced  thera 
delicious.  By  this  accident  was  discovered  a  species  of  food,  which 
has  saved  millions  of  the  human  race  from  starvation. 


SIR    WALTER   RALEIGH.  181 

iug  arbutus,  and  the  fragrant  myrtle  are  still  conspic- 
uous there,  the  latter  elegant  species  having  obtained 
the  rare  height  of  twenty  feet. 

The  death  of  Queen  Elizabeth  was  an  event  which 
suddenly  deprived  Raleigh  of  all  the  emoluments  he 
had  enjoyed.  It  was  one  for  which  he  had  made  no 
provision.  His  enemies,  on  the  contrary,  had  antici- 
pated the  stroke,  and  had  taken  care  that  it  should 
fall  heavily  on  him. 

James,  the  successor  of  Elizabeth,  was  incapable 
of  appreciating  the  genius  of  Raleigh.  Yain,  con- 
ceited, superficial,  and  pedantic  in  his  learning ;  jeal 
ous  and  suspicious  in  temperament,  and  narrow,  tim- 
id, and  inactive  in  policy,  he  inspired  a  contempt  in 
Raleigh,  which  that  courtier  made  no  attempt  to  con- 
ceal. Sir  Walter's  fondness  for  enterprise  and  dis- 
covery, and  his  love  of  national  glory,  were  comj)lete- 
ly  at  variance  with  the  notions  of  the  monarch. 
Before  his  succession,  James  had  been  deeply  preju- 
diced against  Raleigh,  as  one  of  the  actors  in  the 
Essex  tragedy.  Cecil,  though  far  more  censurable, 
contrived  to  establish  a  secret  correspondence  with 
King  James,  cunningly  acquiesced  in  his  sentiments, 
and  insinuated  himself  so  far  in  his  good  graces,  and 
so  completely  gained  over  his  favorites,  that  when 
that  monarch  occupied  the  English  throne,  he  retain- 
ed Cecil  as  secretary  of  state,  to  the  utter  surprise  of 
political  prophets.  The  secretary  had  been  careful 
to  inspire  James  with  a  dislike  for  Raleigh,  and,  ac- 
cordingly, he  soon  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  his 


182         DISCO VEKER3    AND   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

rival  deprived  of  his  post  as  captain  of  the  guard,  his 
lucrative  wine-patent  withdrawn,  and  his  movements 
regarded  with  coldness  and  distrust.  Raleigh's  eyes 
were  suddenly  opened  to  the  treachery  of  his  mock- 
friend,  and  from  that  moment  they  were  in  o]Den 
hostility. 

Three  months  of  the  new  sovereignty  had  scarcely 
passed,  when  Raleigh  was  arrested  for  treason.  Of 
the  grounds  of  this  procedure,  he  was  entirely  igno- 
rant, till  he  found  himself  accused  of  traitorous  nego- 
tiations with  Spain,  and  of  a  design  of  subverting  the 
government,  and  placing  Arabella  Stuart  upon  the 
throne.  The  first  charge  was  too  inconsistent  wdth 
his  well-known  hatred  for  Spain,  to  have  much  weight. 
The  third  was  so  entirely  unfounded,  that  even  his 
enemies  were  too  ashamed  to  prosecute  it.  The  sec- 
ond, however,  managed  by  the  artful  Cecil,  assumed 
a  more  serious  aspect. 

Lord  Cobham.  the  brother-in-law  of  Cecil,  had  be- 
come involved  in  a  charge  of  treason,  with  his  brother, 
Mr.  Brooks,  and  several  popish  priests.  Being  a 
friend  of  Raleigh,  and  having  often  conversed  with 
him,  in  discontented  terms,  respecting  the  govern- 
ment, suspicion  fell  upon  Sir  "Walter  as  being  an  ac- 
complice in  the  conspiracy.  Lord  Cobham's  charac- 
ter is  described  as  "  a  compound  of  fear,  weakness, 
and  falsehood."  He  was  completely  the  tool  of  Ce- 
cil, and,  as  such,  was  instigated  to  accuse  his  friend 
of  being  an  associate  conspirator,  in  presence  of  the 
council.     He  had  scarcely  uttered  the  charge,  when 


Sm    WALTER   EALEIGn.  183 

he  was  overpowered  with  remorse,  at  his  own  villain 
ons  conduct  towards  his  friend,  and  retracted  the 
whole  accusation.  The  council  would  not  accept  his 
retraction.  Why  he  should  have  uttered  the  mon- 
strous falsehood,  and  thus  virtually  plead  guilty  him- 
self, when  the  real  culprits  declared,  at  their  execu- 
tion, that  he  was  not  privy  to  their  plans,  is  most  un- 
accountable, unless  his  conscious  discontent,  his 
weakness,  and  the  carefully  worded  threats  of  the 
secretary,  be  considered. 

Sir  Walter's  trial  was  a  series  of  cruel  and  unjust 
absurdities,  sustained  by  able  and  skillful  enemies. 
Sir  Edward  Coke  exhausted  his  ingenuity  in  invent- 
ing epithets  sufficiently  detestable  to  apply  to  him. 
He  magnified  and  misrepresented  the  most  trifling 
circumstances  ;  he  prejudiced  the  minds  of  the  jury  ; 
and  what  was  found  wanting  in  evidence,  he  made 
up  by  abuse.  "  Yiperous  traitor,"  was  an  epithet 
that  accompanied  almost  every  interrogation.  Coke, 
in  fact,  was  so  fi.lled  with  the  venom  of  anger  and 
hatred,  that,  regardless  of  the  fatal  effects,  he  lost  no 
opportunity  to  dart  a  viper's  sting  at  the  prisoner. 

Kaleigh  endured  his  invectives  with  surprising 
calmness.  He  defended  himself  nobly  and  eloquent- 
ly, and,  says  one  who  was  present  at  the  trial,  "  with 
that  temper,  wit,  learning,  courage,  and  judgment, 
that,  save  it  went  with  the  hazard  of  his  life,  it  was 
the  happiest  day  he  ever  spent." 

The  last  piece  of  evidence  adduced  in  Kaleigh's  favor, 
was  a  letter  from  Lord  Cobham,  written  while  con  • 


/lS4  discoverers    and    pioneers    of    AMERICA. 

fined  in  the  Tower,  and  wliicli  most  solemnly  protested 
Kaleigli's  innocence.  It  was  allowed  no  weight,  how- 
ever, and  Raleigh's  only  hope  of  acquittal  in  being 
confronted  with  Cobham,  was  peremptorily  refused. 
^'  If  his  presence  could  have  injured  Kaleigh,  he  would 
have  been  brought  over  from  Constantinople,"  as  the 
monarch  owned. 

Prince  Henry,  James'  eldest  son — of  most  piomising 
talent,  and  whose  noble  and  upright  mind  perceived 
the  tyranny  of  his  father,  the  smooth-tongued  hypoc- 
risy of  Cecil,  and  the  baseness  of  Coke — strongly  cen- 
sured the  proceedings,  and  endeavored  to  soften  the 
rigor  of  the  sentence  which  was  pronounced  upon 
Raleigh.  Yet  it  was  not  averted  ;  the  details  of  his 
execution  were  pronounced  with  the  most  tormenting 
minuteness. 

The  evident  innocence  of  the  condemned,  his  com- 
posed and  forbearing  demeanor,  in  striking  contrast 
with  his  judges ;  the  eloquence,  wit,  and  ability  with 
which  he  had  defended  himself,  operated  powerfully 
upon  the  spectators,  who  crowded  the  court  with  in- 
tense interest.  Nearly  all  had  come  filled  with  ha- 
tred towards  the  proclaimed  traitor,  rejoicing  to  see 
his  proud  head  bowed  at  last.  They  "  would  have 
gone  a  thousand  miles  to  see  him  hanged,"  yet,  when 
they  beheld  him,  when  they  listened  to  him,  when 
they  detected  the  extent  of  injustice  he  sufi'ered,  their 
overflowing  feelings  were  changed  from  "  extremest 
hate  to  extremest  pity,"  and  they  would  now  have 
•  gone  a  thousand  miles  to  save  his  life." 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  185 

He  was  conducted  back  to  prison,  to  await  tlie  ex- 
ecution of  his  sentence,  whicli  lie  looked  for  daily  in 
a  state  of  painful  suspense,  during  a  whole  month. 
He  made  an  appeal  to  the  king  for  mercy,  but  it  re- 
ceived no  attention.  He  then  wrote  a  touching  fare- 
well letter  to  his  wife,  in  which  is  depicted  a  strong 
and  tender  affection,  a  heroic  spirit,  and  an  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  providences  of  God,  and  the  rich  com- 
fort of  reliance  upon  the  Almighty,  altogether  unex- 
pected in  one  whose  life  had  hitherto  evinced  little 
practical  piety.  His  beautiful  message  of  love  speaks 
for  itself : 

"  You  shall  now  receive,  my  dear  wife,  my  last 
words,  in  these  my  last  lines.  My  love  I  send  you, 
that  you  may  keep  it  when  I  am  dead ;  and  my 
counsel,  that  you  may  remember  it  when  I  am  no 
more.  I  would  not,  by  my  will,  present  you  with 
sorrows,  dear  Bess,  —  let  them  go  into  the  grave  with 
me,  and  be  buried  in  the  dust.  And  seeing  that  it  is 
not  the  will  of  God  that  ever  I  shall  see  you  more  in 
this  life,  bear  it  patiently,  and  with  a  heart  like 
thyself. 

"  First,  I  send  you  all  the  thanks  my  heart  can 
conceive,  or  my  words  can  express  for  your  many 
travails  and  care  taken  for  me ;  which,  though  they 
have  not  taken  effect  as  you  wished,  yet  my  debt  to 
you  is  not  the  less.  But  pay  it  I  never  shall  in  this 
world.  Secondly,  I  beseech  you  for  the  love  you 
bear  me  living,  do  not  hide  yourself  many  days  after 


186  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

my  death  ;  but  by  your  travail  seek  to  help  your  mis- 
erable  fortunes,  and  the  right  of  your  poor  child. 
Thy  mournings  cannot  avail  me, —  I  am  but  dust.  . 
.  .  If  you  can  live  free  from  want,  care  for  no 
more  ;  the  rest  is  but  vanity.  Love  God,  and  begin 
betimes  to  repose  yourself  on  him  ;  and  therein  you 
shall  iind  true  and  lasting  riches,  and  endless  com- 
fort. For  the  rest,  when  you  have  travailed  and 
wearied  your  thoughts  over  all  sorts  of  worldly  cogi- 
tations, you  shall  but  sit  down  by  sorrow  in  the  end. 
Teach  your  son,  also,  to  love  and  fear  God  while  he 
is  yet  young,  that  the  fear  of  God  may  grow  up  with 
him,  and  then  God  will  be  a  husband  to  you  and  a 
father  to  him.  .  .  When  I  am  gone,  no  doubt  you 
will  be  sought  by  many,  for  the  world  thinks  I  was 
very  rich.  But  take  heed  of  the  pretenses  of  men, 
and  their  affections.  ...  I  speak  not  this,  God 
knows,  to  dissuade  from  marriage ;  for  it  will  be  best 
for  you,  both  in  respect  of  the  world  and  of  God.  As 
for  me,  I  am  no  more  yours,  nor  you  mine.  Death 
has  cut  us  asunder,  and  God  hath  divided  me  from 
the  world,  and  you  from  me.  Remember  your  poor 
child  for  his  father's  sake,  who  chose  and  loved  you 
in  his  happiest  time.  .  .  .  The  everlasting,  pow- 
erful, infinite,  and  omnipotent  God,  who  is  goodness 
itself,  the  true  life  and  light,  keep  thee  and  thine,  have 
mercy  on  me,  and  teach  me  to  forgive  my  persecu- 
tors and  accusers,  and  send  us  to  meet  in  his  glorious 
kingdom.  My  dear  wife,  farewell !  Bless  my  poor 
boy ;    pray  for  me,  and  let  my  good  God  hold  you 


SIR   WALTER    RALEIGH.  1S7 

botli  in  his  arms.     Written  with  the  dying  hand  of 
Bome  time  thy  husband,  but  now,  alas  !    overthrown. 
Yours  that  was,  but  now  not  my  own, — 

"  Walter  Haleigh." 

This  manly  and  affecting  letter  was  written  while 
be  momentarily  expected  a  summons  to  the  scaffold. 
Three  weeks  had  passed  in  a  torturing  state  of  sus- 
pense, when  he  beheld,  one  morning,  from  the  win- 
dow of  his  prison,  a  most  singular  and  fearful  farce 
enacted.  A  tumultuous  crowd  was  assembled  about 
a  newly  erected  scaffold.  The  executioner,  the  offi- 
cers of  the  law,  the  priest,  and  the  friends  of  the 
prisoners,  whose  trial  and  condemnation  had  followed 
that  of  Raleigh,  occupied  the  stage.  He  watched  the 
approach  of  the  first  sufferer,  beheld  his  final  devo- 
tions, and,  with  a  sickened  feeling,  at  the  remem- 
brance of  a  like  fate  for  himself,  saw  him  lay  his  head 
upon  the  block,  and  the  ponderous  axe  ready  to  de- 
scend. Tet  it  did  not  fall.  The  prisoner  arose  and 
stood  like  a  statue,  while  an  officer  addressed  him. 
He  was  then  led  away  amidst  shouts  and  acclama- 
tions that  rolled  noisily  to  the  distant  cell  of  Ea- 
leigh,  who,  dumb  with  wonder,  gazed  upon  the 
strange  pantomime,  till  the  three  convicted  noblemen, 
Cobham,  Giey  and  Markham,  were  successively 
brought  to  the  verge  of  eternity,  were  made  to  suffer 
the  agony  of  an  expected  and  dreaded  death,  and 
then  thrust  back  to  their  gloomy,  solitary  cells. 

Raleigh  divined  its  meaning,  felt  a  new  and  stirring 


188  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

hope  tliat  his  own  innocence  should  yet  be  acknow 
ledged,  and  he  should  again  be  united  to  those  for 
whose  sake  he  coveted  life.  But  he  soon  learned  that 
he  was  to  be  consigned  to  a  living  death.  The  mercy 
of  the  king  granted  life,  but  condemned  him  to  im- 
prisonment in  the  Tower,  for  such  a  term  of  years  as 
should  suit  the  royal  pleasure. 

Lady  Raleigh  had  not  looked  on  inactively  during 
her  husband's  trial.  She  had  put  forth  every  possi- 
ble exertion  to  save  him,  and  only  yielded  herself  to 
inconsolable  grief  when  all  hope  was  extinguished. 
At  Sherbourne,  the  home  that  was  crowded  with  as- 
sociations of  the  early  years  of  their  marriage,  and 
of  later  days,  of  perfect  harmony  and  love,  Lady  Ra- 
leigh had  awaited  the  tidings  she  believed  inevitable. 
When,  at  last,  a  messenger  arrived,  full  of  the  ex- 
citement that  prevailed  wherever  the  news  had  sped, 
her  sharp  and  tearless  agony  yielded  to  grateful  tears. 
The  damp,  gloomy  cell,  the  unvaried  and  weary  life 
to  be  passed  within  its  narrow  confines,  the  bolts, 
locks,  bars,  and  impregnable  walls,  reminding  one 
every  moment  of  a  hard  fate,  had  scarcely  a  place  in 
her  thoughts.  It  was  enough  for  her  to  know  he 
lived.  She  had  now  but  one  wish,  and  that  was  to 
share,  with  her  only  son,  the  imprisonment  of  Sir 
Walter ;  to  cheer,  console,  and  lighten,  the  tedious- 
ness  of  his  unoccupied  life. 

With  no  anxiety  but  the  fear  of  a  refusal,  she  has- 
tened to  court,  and  seeking  the  presence  of  the  mou' 
arch,  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  and  entreated  him  to 


SIK   WALTEK   EALEIGH.  189 

grant  the  only  happiness  that  remained  for  her.  James 
acquiesced,  probably  with  no  little  wonder  at  the  he* 
roic  devotion  which  his  selfish  nature  found  difficult 
to  comprehend.  Unlike  most  of  the  high-born  la- 
dies, who  enjoj-ed  the  elevated  position  which  had 
been  hers,  Ladj  Kaleigh  seldom  mingled  in  the  dis- 
sipated i^leasures  of  court  life.  She  had  presided  at 
Sherbourne  with  dignity  and  grace,  and  found  her 
greatest  happiness  at  her  own  fireside  —  a  choice 
which  accounts  for  the  faithfulness,  and  strength  of 
attachment  that  existed  between  Sir  Walter  and  his 
devoted  wife ;  for  a  harmonious  and  deep  afi'ection 
can  no  more  outlive  a  constant  participation  in  the 
heartless  gayeties  of  fashionable  life,  than  a  rare  and 
rich  fiower  can  long  exist  in  the  midst  of  an  over 
growth  of  poisonous  weeds. 

It  was  no  sacrifice  for  Lady  Ealeigh  to  leave  the 
outer  world,  so  long  as  it  obtained  for  her  the  joy  of 
alleviating  her  husband's  trials.  With  a  cheerful 
countenance,  that  still  retained  much  of  the  beauty 
of  her  youth,  she  brought  sunshine  into  the  cold  dun- 
geon. Her  woman's  refinement  and  ingenuity  de- 
vised small  means  of  comfort,  that  brought  a  home- 
look  even  to  the  doleful  cells  of  the  Tower.  Consoled 
by  the  presence  of  his  wife  and  young  son,  Ealeigh 
diverted  his  thoughts  from  his  own  misfortunes  by 
pursuing  the  studies,  which,  from  his  youth,  had  oc- 
cupied his  leisure.  His  extensive  travels  and  close 
observation,  had  stored  up  a  large  fund  for  his  pres 


190         DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OP    A^IERICA. 

ent  use,  and  lie  now  reaped  tlie  benefit  of  the  vigv> 
rons  cultivation  of  his  intellect.  He  accomplished  a 
work  which  would  have  intimidated  the  most  learned, 
in  the  midst  of  libraries  and  accessible  manuscripts. 
With  few  materials,  aside  from  his  own  valuable  ex- 
perience, and  thorough  reading,  he  wrote  a  History 
of  the  World, — a  ponderous  work,  spoken  of  by  Tytler 
as  an  "  extraordinary  monument  of  human  labor  and 
genius,  which,  in  the  vastness  of  its  subject,  its  re- 
search and  learning,  the  wisdom  of  its  political  reflec- 
tions, and  the  beauties  of  its  style,  has  not  been 
equaled  by  any  writer  of  this,  or  perhaps  of  any 
other  country." 

Aside  from  this,  Ealeigh  frequently  wrote  letters, 
essays  and  discourses,  upon  the  arts,  science  or  poli- 
tics, in  which,  though  a  state  prisoner,  his  judgment 
and  wisdom  was  consulted.  Prince  Henry  enter- 
tained a  strong  sympathy  and  admiration  for  the  un- 
fortunate nobleman.  He  often  visited  him,  corres- 
ponded with  him,  and  courted  his  instructions  in  the 
civil,  military,  and  naval  afl^airs  that  occupied  his 
practical  as  well  as  accomplished  mind.  He  is  said 
to  have  made  the  observation,  that  "  none  but  his 
father  would  have  kept  such  a  bird  in  a  cage." 

Hariot,  the  distinguished  mathematician  and  natu- 
ralist, whom  Raleigh  had  once  sent  to  ascertain  the 
extent  and  productions  of  Virginia,  was  often  admit- 
ted to  his  presence.  He,  together  with  Hughes  and 
Warner,  two  accomplished  scholars,  had  frequently 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  191 

assisted  liim  in  making  chemical  experiments,  and 
astronomical  calculations.  Their  devotion  to  their 
captive  patron,  obtained  for  them  the  souhriquet  of 
his  Three  Magi.  They  must  have  furnished  the  val- 
uable laboratory  which  Raleigh  established  in  the 
small  garden  of  the  Tower.  He  converted  an  old 
house  to  the  purpose,  and,  as  was  said  by  Sir  William 
Wade,  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  he  there  "  spent 
all  the  day  in  distillations." 

There  were  several  prisoners  of  rank  and  genius 
confined  in  the  Tower  at  this  time,  who  were  occa- 
sionally permitted  each  other's  society.  The  Earl  of 
Northumberland  established  a  literary  society  in  his 
apartments,  and  the  companionship  of  Piercy,  "a 
mathematician,  a  chemist,  an  astrologer,  and  a  hu- 
morist," and  that  of  Hoskins,  the  poet,  served  to  give 
wings  to  the  tedious  hours  of  imprisonment.  Raleigh 
himself,  courted  the  muses.  His  quaint,  but  beauti- 
ful strains  evince  a  depth  of  piety,  which  he  proba- 
bly never  could  have  experienced  had  his  prosperity 
continued.  Austere  judges  may  doubt  his  sincerity, 
but  his  uncomplaining  forgiveness  towards  his  most 
bitter  enemies,  his  Christian  calmness,  so  unlike  his 
former  impetuosity,  and  the  fervor  and  submissive- 
ness  to  God's  will,  expressed  in  his  writings,  seem  ut- 
terly incompatible  with  what  we  should  look  for  in  a 
cold  philosopher,  or  a  hypocrite.  Misanthropy,  im- 
patience, and  bitterness  of  spirit,  might,  more  natu- 
rally, result  from  the  twelve  years'  imprisonment  of  a 


192         DISCOVERERS   AND   PIONEERS    OF    A:MERICA. 

formal  moralist,  than  the  heavenly  aspirations  breathed 
in  such  hymns  as  the  following :  — 

**  Rise,  O  my  soul,  with  thy  desires  to  Heaven, 

And  with  divinest  contemplation  use 
Thy  time,  where  time's  eternity  is  given, 

And  let  vain  thoughts  no  more  thy  thoughts  abuse ; 
But  down  in  darkness  let  them  lie  ; 
So  live  thy  better,  let  thy  worse  thoughts  die. 

"  To  thee,  0  Jesu !   I  direct  my  eyes. 

To  thee  my  hands,  to  thee  my  humble  kneea^ 

To  thee  my  heart  shall  offer  sacrifice. 

To  thee  my  thoughts,  who  my  thoughts  only  sees : 

To  thee  myself,  myself  and  all  I  give, 

To  thee  I  die,  to  thee  I  only  live !  " 

Seven  years  of  imprisonment  had  dragged  out 
their  weary  length,  when  a  new  and  unexpected  blow 
struck  deeply  at  the  happiness  which,  the  isolated 
family  promised  themselves,  was  yet  in  store  for 
them.  As  if  it  was  not  enough  to  cage  the  eagle, 
iinsatiated  enemies  began  to  pluck  the  choicest  feath- 
ers from  his  wings  to  plume  their  own  greatness. 
Sherbourne,  the  gift  of  Elizabeth,  the  home  he  prized 
above  all  the  palaces  of  England,  where  he  had  en- 
joyed so  many  years  of  unalloyed  domestic  happi- 
ness, and  which  he  had  embellished  with  studied  care 
and  taste,  was  a  prize  that  did  not  escape  the  cove- 
tous eye  of  James'  new  favorite,  the  notorious  and 
unprincipled  Eobert  Carr,  Earl  of  Somerset.  Ealeigh 
had  taken  especial  care  to  settle  this  favorite  estate 
upon  his  eldest  son.     The  scrutiny  of  malignant  ene- 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  193 

mies,  liowever,  discovered  the  omission  of  a  few  triv- 
ial words  in  the  deed  of  conveyance,  and,  taking  ad- 
vantage of  this  legal  flaw,  solicited  the  estate  from 
the  king.  Nothing  was  denied  to  Carr,  and  James 
had  not  yet  forgiven  Raleigh.  The  news  of  the  pro- 
bable forfeiture  of  Sherbourne,  was  conveyed  to  Sir 
AYalter  by  some  sympathizing  friend.  What  to  do,  to 
avert  the  calamity,  was  a  question  of  painful  interest 
to  the  little  family,  to  whom  the  addition  of  a  second 
son  rendered  the  preservation  of  the  remaining  por- 
tion of  his  spoiled  fortune  all  the  more  necessary. 
Above  all,  to  lose  the  dearest  home  they  possessed, 
was  a  misfortune  that  weighed  more  heavily  upon 
their  depressed  spirits,  than  any  other  his  active  ene- 
mies could  have  devised. 

Prince  Henry  interceded  for  the  family,  in  whom 
he  had  become  most  deeply  interested.  But  the  in- 
fluence of  the  rapacious  Carr,  over  the  weak  mon- 
arch, outweighed  that  of  his  own  high-minded  son. 
Grieved  at  her  husband's  dejection,  when  this  hope 
failed,  Lady  Raleigh  proposed  to  plead  with  the  king, 
herself.  This  seemed  a  happy  thought,  for,  aside 
from  the  justness  of  her  petition,  who  could  resist  the 
eloquent  appeal  of  her  wan,  sorrowful  face,  paled  to 
marble  whiteness,  by  her  long,  voluntary  imprison- 
ment ?  Encouraged  by  Prince  Henry,  and  accom- 
panied by  her  two  youthful  sons,  she  repaired  to  the 
palace,  and  was  admitted  to  the  presence  of  her  sover- 
eign. Seven  years  had  come  and  gone,  since  she  last 
knelt  at  the  feet  of  James.  Her  name,  and  her  beau- 
I  13 


194:         DISCOVERERS    AXD    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

tiful  devotion  had  long  ago  been  forgotten  by  tbo  gay 
courtiers  who  surrounded  him.  New  favoritss  who 
had  heard  her  history,  as  a  romance  of  the  past,  were 
startled  at  her  sudden  apparition  in  their  very  midst. 
Curious  eyes  marked  the  traces  of  beauty,  still  evi 
dent  in  her  face,  though  full  of  long-endured  sorrow. 
The  presence  of  her  children  was  a  touching  appeal. 
"White  as  statues,  and  bewildered  at  the  strange  scene 
of  costly  decorations,  of  imposing  royalty  and  cheer- 
ful faces, — so  widely  different  from  the  cold,  dark  walls, 
and  the  pale,  solemn  faces,  they  were  used  to  behold, — 
they  clung,  frightened-  and  trembling,  to  their  plead- 
ing mother.  The  heart  of  any,  but  that  of  the  selfish 
James,  would  have  yielded  to  the  eloquent  entreaties, 
and  the  faithful  efforts  of  this  noble  wife  and  moth- 
er, who  asked  a  simple  act  of  justice.  But,  instead 
of  granting  the  tearful  request,  he  coldly  shook  his 
head,  and  replied  impatiently, — 

"  I  maun  have  the  land  —  I  maun  have  it  for 
Carr." 

Almost  overcome  with  j^owerful  emotions,  and  sick 
at  heart.  Lady  Ealeigh  slowly  turned  away  from  the 
palace  and  court,  gay  with  the  revelry  of  Queen 
Anne's  suite.  The  hunting  parties,  the  masquerades 
and  operatic  plays,  in  which  the  queen  did  not  dis- 
dain to  act  a  part,  seemed  more  heartless  and  trivial 
than  ever,  in  contrast  with  her  own  dark  life,  her 
sombre  home,  and  the  beggarly  pittance  of  sympathy 
those  in  power  bestowed  upon  her  injured  husband. 
The  ponderous  gates  and  doors  of  the  Tower  closed 


Sm   WALTEK   KALEIGH.  195 

upon  her.  The  slow  weight  of  her  step,  as  she  re- 
turned to  Sir  Walter,  and  that  eloquent  silence  which 

"  Whispers  the  o'er-franght  heart," 

told  him,  plainer  than  words,  of  disappointment.  He 
had  need  of  fortitude  to  endure  his  reverses,  for  three 
other  valued  estates  soon  followed  Sherbourne.  His 
hopes  of  an  eventual  release  from  the  Tower,  were 
also,  soon  after,  cut  oif  bj  the  death  of  his  onlj  re- 
maining, influential  friend.  Prince  Henry.  He  deep- 
ly felt  the  loss. 

In  time,  however,  events  assumed  a  shape  more  fa- 
vorable to  his  release.  Death  and  reverses  had  been 
busy  with  his  enemies,  as  well  as  with  his  friends. 
Cobham  had,  long  before,  suffered  poverty  and  obscu- 
rity, and  finally  died  in  a  poor  hovel,  attended  only 
by  his  former  laundress.  Cecil's  life  of  duplicity  had 
been  cut  off  by  a  painful  disease.  His  successor  in 
office.  Sir  Ralph  Winwood,  was  a  plain,  honest,  intel- 
ligent man,  and  from  him  Raleigh  reasonably  hoped 
much.  Somerset,  the  villianous  favorite,  had  stained 
his  hands  in  blood,  and,  with  his  guilty  countess,  was 
disgraced.  His  place  was  filled  by  Yilliers,  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  who  interested  himself  in  the  fate  of 
the  long  imprisoned  hero.  Queen  Anne  was,  also, 
favorably  disposed  towards  Raleigh,  probably  from 
the  remembered  friendship  of  the  deceased  Prince, 
whose  loss  she  did  not  cease  to  lament. 

Raleigh  addressed  a  petition  to  the  queen,  urging 
her  interposition  in  his  behalf,  and  proposed,  in  case 


196         DISCOVERERS    AXU    PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

of  liberation,  to  renew  his  attempts  t3  colonize  and 
explore  Guiana  —  a  scheme  which  he  still  enthusias- 
tically cherished.  Winwood,  the  secretary  of  state, 
recommended  the  proposition  to  the  king.  Success 
attended  the  efforts  of  these  new  and  powerful 
friends,  and,  early  in  March,  1615,  after  twelve  yeais 
of  enforced  solitude,  he  emerged  with  his  wife  and 
sons,  from  the  doleful  confines  of  the  Tower,  to  the 
breathing,  hurrying  world. 

Yigor,  energy  and  activity,  again  animated  him. 
Though  in  his  sixty-fifth  year,  he  began  preparations 
for  the  proposed  voyage,  with  as  much  enthusiasm 
and  ambition  as  if  he  was  but  a  youth,  tossing,  for 
the  first  time,  his  hook  and  line  into  the  sea  of  life. 
To  obtain  funds  for  the  undertaking.  Lady  Kaleigh 
disposed  of  her  estate  of  Micham.  A  sum  of  money 
was,  also,  given  him  by  the  king,  as  "  a  competent 
satisfaction "  for  the  loss  of  Sherbourne,  though  it 
was  but  little  more  than  the  yearly  income  he  had 
derived  from  that  estate.  Many  merchants  and  pri- 
vate adventurers  took  a  share  in  the  expedition.  The 
fleet  sailed  on  the  28th  of  March,  1617.  It  is  in- 
teresting to  know  that,  first  among  the  orders  given 
to  the  several  commanders  of  the  fleet,  were  the  fol- 
lowing:  "  First,  because  no  action  or  enterprise  can 
prosper  (be  it  by  sea  or  land)  without  the  favor  and 
assistance  of  Almighty  God,  the  Lord  and  strength 
of  hosts  and  armies,  you  shall  not  fail  to  cause  divine 
service  to  be  read  in  your  ship,  morning  and  evening 

.     .     .     praising  God  every  night,  with  singing  of 


SIR   WAI.TER   RALEIGH.  197 

a  psalm  at  tlie  setting  of  the  watch.  Secondly,  you 
shall  take  especial  care  that  God  be  not  blasphemed 
in  your  ship,  .  .  .  for  if  it  be  threatened  in  the 
Scriptures,  that  ^  the  curse  shall  not  depart  from  the 
house  of  the  swearer,'  much  less  from  the  ship  of  the 
swearer." 

Raleigh  was  kindly  and  gladly  welcomed  by  the 
Indians  to  the  New  World.  His  sanguine  hopes  of 
success  were  dampened,  soon  after  his  arrival,  upon 
learning  that  the  Spaniards  had  been  apprised  of  his 
coming.  Influenced  by  the  jealousy  with  which 
Spain  regarded  the  movement,  they  watched  his  pro- 
gress with  hatred  and  suspicion.  Raleigh,  being 
confined  to  his  berth  by  illness,  dispatched  Captain 
Keymis,  with  five  ships,  to  proceed  up  the  Orinoco, 
to  the  gold  mine,  which  he  was  confident  existed 
there,  and  retained  the  other  vessels  for  defence 
against  a  Spanish  fleet,  sent  to  reconnoitre  his  move- 
ments. 

His  arrangements  betrayed  an  expectation  of  a  col- 
lision with  the  Spaniards,  notwithstanding  the  strict 
instructions  given  by  his  sovereign,  to  preserve  the 
treaty  which  had  been  lately  consummated  between 
England  and  Spain. 

The  Spaniards,  however,  ofi"ered  the  first  provoca- 
tion, and  struck  the  first  blow.  Keymis  was  attacked 
and  repulsed  at  Santa  Thome,  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
mine.  Young  Walter  Raleigh,  the  eldest  son  of  the 
earl,  fell  in  the  contest.  This  bereavement,  added  to 
the  violation  of  the  treaty,  and  the  failure  of  Keymig 


198  DISCO VEEER8   AND   PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA 

to  prove,  by  obtaining  gold,  that  the  enterprise  was 
neither  illusory  nor  hostile  to  the  Spaniards,  occa- 
sioned Kaleigh  the  most  poignant  grief.  In  a  letter 
to  his  aiS-icted  wife,  he  said  —  "I  never  knew  what 
sorrow  meant  till  now."  Keymis  was  so  troubled  at 
the  apparent  culpability  of  his  conduct,  and  the  fatal 
consequences  to  Raleigh,  that  he  retired  to  his  cabin, 
and  put  an  end  to  his  existence. 

Heart-broken  and  disappointed.  Sir  "Walter  sailed 
for  England.  He  determined  to  cast  himself  upon 
the  mercy  and  justice  of  the  king,  whom  he  hoped 
to  convince  of  his  own  innocency,  and  accordingly 
resisted  the  urgent  entreaties  of  his  friends,  to  seek 
refuge  on  the  continent.  He  remembered,  too,  his 
pledge  of  honor  to  return  to  England,  demanded  from 
him,  because  his  full  pardon  for  alleged  treason  had 
never  been  granted.  He  was  immediately  arrested 
on  his  arrival  in  England,  at  the  instigation  of  the 
Spanish  ambassador  —  a  proud,  cruel,  Castilian  count, 
of  a  dark  and  powerful  character.  "When  an  exag- 
gerated report  of  the  action  in  Guiana,  reached  the 
malicious  count,  he  demanded  an  interview  with  the 
king,  and,  upon  being  admitted,  frantically  cried  out, 
with  Jesuitical  effect,  "  Pirates  !  pirates  !  pirates  !  " 
and  without  another  word,  strode  angrily  from  the 
apartment. 

James  dreaded  wothing  more  than  a  rupture  with 
Spain.  His  fears  thus  worked  upon,  and  actuated  by 
his  dislike  to  Raleigh,  he  disregarded  the  intercession 
of  the  queen  and  others,  who  plead  for  him  ;  and 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  199 

promised  King  Philip  that  this  formidable  foe  to 
Spain  shoukl  die.  Sir  Lewis  Stuckely,  a  kinsman  of 
Sir  Walter's,  was  commissioned  with  the  arrest,  and, 
by  the  promise  of  a  large  reward,  was  instigated  to 
deceive  and  induce  his  unsuspecting  prisoner  to  es- 
cape, and  then  basely  betray  him.  For  a  week,  Ea- 
leigh  was  allowed  the  society  of  his  deeply  afflicted 
wife.  During  that  time,  he  feigned  sickness,  to  pre- 
vent his  immediate  committal  to  the  Tower,  and  to 
gain  time  to  write  an  appeal  and  vindication  to  the 
king. 

Lady  Ealeigh  was  not  permitted  to  accompany 
him  in  his  last  imprisonment.  He  was  deprived  of 
the  society  and  comforts  formerly  granted  him  ;  was 
placed  in  a  "  high  and  safe  apartment,  and  confined 
to  the  keejDing  and  espionage  of  Sir  Thomas  "Wilson. 
His  own  servant  was  dismissed,  and  the  place  sup- 
plied by  a  man  of  Wilson's  selection,  who  assisted 
the  keeper  in  his  mean  surveillance.  Either  one  or 
the  other  of  these  persons  constantly  remained  in 
Kaleigh's  presence.  Wilson  cunningly  questioned 
him,  and  sought  every  means  to  elicit  some  confes- 
sions that  would  prove  him  guilty.  T4ieir  conversa- 
tions were  carefully  noted  down,  and  transmitted  to 
the  monarch,  who  was  anxious  to  find  some  plausible 
pretext  for  getting  rid  of  his  troublesome  subject. 
Lady  Raleigh  was  encouraged  to  correspond  with  her 
husband ;  but  every  letter,  and  every  reply,  was  in- 
tercepted by  the  keeper's  servant,  and  conveyed  to 


200         DISCOVERERS    AlHD   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

the  king,  for  perusal,  before  being  delivered  to  its 
proper  recipient. 

These  means  failed  to  convict  Kaleio'h  of  wroncr. 
The  arrival  of  instructions  from  Spain,  to  have  him 
executed  without  delay,  placed  James  in  an  uneasy 
dilemma.  Raleigh's  death  had  been  promised  to 
Philip,  yet  it  could  not  be  accomplished  without  some 
evidence  of  guilt.  He  consulted  his  council,  and  fi- 
nally appointed  commissioners  to  interrogate  Raleigh, 
and  to  report  npon  the  best  mode  of  proceeding 
against  him.  They  decided  that  he  could  not  be 
called  to  account  for  crimes  committed  after  his  sen- 
tence for  treason  ;  it  was  necessary,  therefore,  to  have 
recourse  to  the  death-warrant  issued  fifteen  years  be- 
fore, although  it  had  been  virtually  annulled  by  his 
subsequent  appointment  as  general-in-chief  of  the 
Guiana  fleet.  This  course  had  scarcely  been  decided 
upon,  after  a  tedious  discussion  by  the  perj^lexed  coun- 
cil, when  a  new  difficulty  arose.  "  They  declared 
that  neither  a  writ  of  privy-seal,  nor  even  a  warrant 
under  the  great  seal,  to  the  judges  of  the  king's 
bench,  could  entitle  them,  after  so  long  an  interval, 
to  pronounce  sentence  of  execution  against  any  pris- 
oner, without  giving  him  an  opportunity  of  pleading 
in  person  against  it. 

James  was  not  willing  to  lose  his  victim  by  such 
an  opportunity  of  acquittal,  for  he  had  once  acknowl- 
edged the  injustice  of  Raleigh's  trial,  by  saying  he 
would  not  risk  his  head  with  a  Winchester  jury,  such 


Sm   WALTER   KALEIGH.  201 

as  bad  found  Sir  TValter  guilty.  To  avoid  these  dif- 
ficulties, it  was  at  last  decided  to  arraign  him  by  a 
writ  of  habeas  corpus.  The  king  acquiesced  and  sign- 
ed a  warrant  for  execution. 

Four  days  afterwards,  the  condemned  man,  sick, 
weak,  and  with  the  chill  of  an  ague  fit  upon  him,  was 
brought  before  the  assembled  court,  to  answer  tlie 
demand  "  why  execution  should  not  pass  against 
him."  He  would  not  plead  for  a  life  which  he  fully 
understood  was  to  be  sacrificed,  whether  by  "  foul  or 
fair  "  means.  He  simply  attempted  a  vindication  of 
his  conduct ;  but  in  this,  he  was  cut  short  by  the 
chief-justice. 

Kaleigh  heard  his  final  sentence  pronounced  with 
calmness  and  resignation.  He  had  looked  for  it  daily ; 
old  ao^e  and  disease  had  overtaken  and  bound  him 
hand  and  foot ;  calumny  and  malice  had  followed 
him  through  life  ;  his  ambition  had  been  foiled  ;  he 
had  painfully  experienced  the  hollowness  of  life  with- 
out God,  even  in  his  palmiest  days.  When  he  heard 
his  hours  numbered,  therefore,  he  felt  no  regret,  ex- 
cept for  the  sake  of  his  cherished  wife  and  son.  His 
only  request  was,  that  he  might  "  not  be  cut  off  sud- 
denly," as  he  desired  to  settle  his  worldly  afiairs,  to 
write  a  clear  statement  of  the  charges  against  him, 
and  their  refutation,  and  to  make  his  final  prepara- 
tion for  a  near  approaching  eternity.  He  was  then 
conducted  to  the  Tower,  and,  after  reaching  his  prison 
chamber,  was  told  that  his  execution  was  appointed 

for  the  following  day. 
I* 


202  DISCOTEEERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

Pained  by  this  brutal  haste,  he  caused  Ladj  Ra- 
leigh to  be  immediately  summoned.  Though  both 
were  prepared  for  the  final  decision  of  his  fate,  by 
years  of  trial  and  dread  anticipation,  yet  their  last 
parting  was  rendered  far  more  agonizing  by  those 
same  burdened  years,  than  if  life  had  gone  glee- 
fully with  them.  Sorrow  and  misfortune  were  the 
shuttles  which  sped  with  the  silver  threads  of  sympa- 
thy and  love,  from  heart  to  heart,  and  wove  them 
into  one.  Like  the  talisman  of  the  Genii,  too,  they 
enabled  their  possessors  to  discover  true  friends  from 
false.  Few  enough  remained  to  Kaleigh.  This  was 
the  more  painful,  because  he  was  about  to  leave  his 
wife  and  son  with  but  the  wreck  of  his  fallen  fortunes. 
He  would  not  trust  himself  to  speak  of,  or  to  see  the 
young  Carew,  whose  birth-place  had  been  a  prison. 
His  strength  and  his  composure  were  too  far  ex- 
hausted already,  and  he  had  but  few  hours  remaining. 
Lady  Raleigh  remained  till  midnight,  when  Sir  Wal- 
ter affectionately  entreated  her  to  leave  him.  She 
complied  ;  but,  at  parting,  burst  into  tears,  as  she  in- 
formed him  she  had  obtained  the  privilege  of  claim- 
ing his  body.  "  It  is  well,  Bess,"  said  he,  cheerfully, 
"  that  thou  mayst  dispose  of  that  dead  thou  hadst  not 
always  the  disposing  of  when  alive."  A  last,  mourn- 
ful embrace,  and  Lady  Raleigh  had  gone,  to  await, 
in  agony  and  tears,  the  tragedy  of  the  approaching 
day. 

At  nine  o'clock,  on  a  cold,  October  morning,  Ra- 
leigh was  led  to  the  Old  Palace  yard,  where  the  scaf- 


Sm    WAI.TEE    RALEIGH.  203 

fold  was  erected.  He  was  riclily  attired  in  a  black 
satin  doublet  and  waistcoat,  and  over  tliem  was 
thrown  a  black,  wrouglit-velvet  robe  —  a  style  of 
dress  wliicli  rendered  his  striking  and  noble  appear- 
ance still  more  conspicuous,  as  he  passed  through  the 
pressing  crowd,  gathered  with  eager  curiosity  to  be- 
hold the  long  heard-of  hero,  and  not  without  sympa- 
thy for  his  unjust  fate.  Supported  on  either  hand 
by  the  sheriffs  and  the  Dean  of  Westminster,  he  as- 
cended the  scaffold,  and,  after  the  hum  of  the  multi- 
tude was  hushed,  addressed  them  in  a  voice,  weak  at 
first,  but  to  which  excitement  gradually  gave  strength. 
Tliough  reduced  by  sickness,  he  spoke  eloquently,  and 
with  grace  and  animation ;  refuting  the  charges 
against  him,  but  uttering  no  word  of  animadversion, 
in  regard  to  those  who  had  plotted  his  downfall,  and 
giving  vent  only  to  a  spirit  of  touching  forgiveness, 
towards  those  who,  Judas-like,  had  kissed  him  and 
then  betrayed  him.  He  had  no  fear  of  death  ;  it  was 
not  the  courage  of  hardened  wickedness,  for  he  him- 
self said  to  those  who  wondered  at  his  tranquillity, 
that  '^  no  man  who  knew  God  and  feared  him,  could 
die  with  cheerfulness  and  courage,  unless  he  was  as- 
sured of  his  love  and  favor."  He  acknowledged 
nimself  to  be  ''  a  man  full  of  all  vanity,  and  one  who 
nad  lived  a  sinful  life ; "  for,  said  he,  ''  I  have  been 
a  soldier,  a  sailor,  and  a  courtier  —  all  of  them  cour- 
ses of  vice  ;  but  I  trust  God  will  not  only  cast  away 
my  sins  from  me,  but  will  receive  me  into  everlast 
ino"  life." 


204:         DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA. 

His  address  finislied,  he  clieerfully  and  calmly  bade 
his  friends  farewell,  and  prepared  to  lay  his  head 
upon  the  block.  A  moment  sufficed  to  convert  the 
the  brilliant,  gifted  Kaleigh,  into  a  lifeless,  bleeding 
corpse.  His  severed  head  was  wrapped  in  his  velvet 
robe,  and  sent,  in  a  mourning  coach,  to  Lady  Ra- 
leigh ;  a  dreadful  gift,  and  the  only  one  the  unrelent- 
ing monarch  ever  condescended  to  bestow  upon  this 
hopeless  widow.  She  caused  it  to  be  embalmed,  and 
preserved  it  in  a  case  during  her  life.  She  survived 
Sir  Walter  twenty-nine  years  —  faithful  to  her  early 
and  devotional  love  to  the  last. 

Carew  Raleigh,  their  only  remaining  son,  kept  his 
father's  head,  with  religious  care,  as  long  as  he  lived, 
and  it  was  finally  buried  with  him,  at  his  seat  of 
West  Horsely,  in  Surrey.  The  contemplation  of  this 
relic,  must  have  recalled,  with  fearful  distinctness, 
the  shadow  upon  his  early  life,  the  sad  face  of  his 
mother,  the  voice,  the  words,  and  the  occupations  of 
his  imprisoned  father.  Thus  continually  reminded 
of  his  own  misfortunes,  and  his  father's  clouded  name, 
a  deep  bitterness  and  melancholy  must  have  been 
fostered  in  his  soul,  which  was  in  no  way  lightened 
of  its  burden  by  his  unhaj)py  reception  at  court.  "  He 
looks  like  his  father's  ghost,"  said  James,  turning 
away,  with  fear  and  remorse,  when  young  Raleigh 
was  presented.  He  was  obliged  to  leave  England 
till  after  that  monarch's  death.  The  most  unkind  act  of 
all,  however,  —  and  that  which  most  deeply  wounded 
him  —  was  the  refusal  of  the  successor  of  James,  to 


Sm   WALTER   KALEIGH.  205 

giant  liis  restoration  in  blood,  except  on  condition  of 
renouncing  all  title  to  liis  father's  property.  All  hope 
of  recovering  Sherbourne  was  therefore  lost,  and  he 
was  constrained  to  see  this  priceless  estate,  with  its 
treasured  associations,  pass  into  the  hands  of  stran- 
gers. The  title  of  Sir  Walter  Kaleigh  was  restored 
in  Carew's  son  —  a  title  which  gathers  more  honor, 
as  the  prejodices  of  the  historians  of  that  period  are 
corrected  by  the  researches  of  unbiassed  seekers  after 
truth  and  justice. 


V. 

HENRY  HUDSON. 

During  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries,  the 
attention  of  commercial  Europe  was  often  directed 
towards  the  Arctic  seas,  as  affording  a  shorter  route 
than  the  one  by  which  traffic  with  the  East  was  then 
carried  on.  In  1499,  Yasco  de  Gama,  a  distinguished 
Portuguese  navigator,  succeeded  in  doubling  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope,  and  opened  a  new  path  to  the  Indies. 
But  it  was  still  a  tedious  and  perilous  one,  and,  being 
nearly  monopolized  by  Portugal,  offered  little  advan- 
tage to  the  English  or  Dutch.  They  wished  to  obtain 
a  more  important  and  independent  footing  in  the  rich 
Asiatic  islands,  and,  accordinglj",  when  a  Avestern 
route  failed,  they  directed  the  prows  of  their  most 
celebrated  navigators  to  the  ice-locked  regions  of  the 
ISTorth,  confident  that  a  passage  could  be  forced  across 
the  I^orth  Pole,  and  easy  access  gained  to  the  desired 
countries.  Many  fleets  were  successively  dispatched, 
with  this  object  in  view,  but  they  returned  disap- 
pointed, if  they  ever  returned  at  all. 

The  first  efficient  proposers  of  the  project,  were  sev- 
eral spirited,  enterprising  English  merchants,  who 
formed  a  "London  Company,"  in  1607,  to  support 


HENRY    HUDSON.  207 

the  design.  The  dangers  attending  such  an  enter- 
prise, required  a  commander  of  skill  and  fortitude. 
That  they  should  have  selected  Ilenrj  Hudson,  is  a 
sufficient  guarantee  of  his  experience  as  a  navigator, 
though  ^liat  experience  had  never  been  recorded. 
Nothing  whatever  is  known  of  his  parentage,  or  of 
the  incidents  of  his  boyhood.  He  nowhere  appears 
as  a  fledgeling;  history  throws  him  out,  a  man  of  full 
stature,  engaged  in  a  bold  and  hazardous  enterprise. 
In  manhood,  he  was  an  intimate  associate  of  Captain 
John  Smith,  of  Yirgrnian  notoriety  —  a  circumstance 
which  enlightens  us  somewhat,  as  to  the  early  bent 
of  his  character. 

Unlike  the  splendid  fleets  that,  for  two  hundred 
years,  had  spread  sail  from  the  ports  of  Europe,  the 
one  which  Henry  Hudson  commanded,  consisted  of 
but  one  strongly  built  vessel,  with  a  crew  of  eleven 
men.  Among  them  was  his  own  young  son,  from 
which  it  is  inferred  that  he  was  married,  though  his 
wife  was  probably  not  living,  or  he  would  scarcely 
have  exposed  such  a  youth  to  the  severities  of  the  in- 
tended voyage. 

On  the  ninth  of  April,  Hudson,  wdth  his  crew,  re- 
paired to  the  church  of  Saint  Ethelburge,  in  Bishops- 
gate-street,  to  receive  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  preparatory  to  the  voyage.  This  long  dis- 
continued custom  of  mariners  commendino^  them- 
selves  to  God,  before  venturing  upon  the  deep,  was  a 
very  beautiful  one,  when  reverentially  observed  ;  but 
It  was,  doubtless,  too  often  desecrated  by  reckless  and 


208         DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

profane  men,  such  as  composed  Hudson's  crew,  wlio 
neitlier  felt  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion,  nor  the  ob- 
ligations incurred. 

Tliej  sailed  the  first  of  May,  1607,  and  in  twenty-six 
days  arrived  off  the  Shetland  Isles.  During  the  fol- 
lowin-o:  week,  several  whales  were  observed  near  the 
vessel  —  a  discovery  which  opened  to  England  the 
profitable  whale-fishery  of  the  l^orth.  By  the  13th 
of  June,  the  adventurers  found  themselves  near  the 
coast  of  Greenland,  benumbed  with  the  extreme  cold, 
and  their  ships  coated  with  ice.  A  heavy  fog,  which 
almost  continually  veils  those  dismal  regions,  tantal- 
ized their  sight,  affording  but  a  faint  glimpse  of  the 
ice-bound  coast.  After  two  days  of  difficult  cruising, 
they  saw  the  thick  mist  roll  back  from  the  sea,  and 
leave  to  their  view  the  snow-capped  hills  and  moun- 
tains of  Greenland,  stretching  away  nine  leagues  in 
the  distance.  Instead  of  the  white  crystals  they  ex- 
pected to  see  sparkling  from  every  sun-lit  j)oint,  they 
were  surprised  to  behold,  here  and  there,  hills  envel- 
oped in  a  mantle  of  dull  red,  and  portions  of  the 
shore  crimsoned,  instead  of  tinted  with  the  blue  and 
grey  of  shaded  snow  or  ice.  It  is  said  that  even  the 
Alps  sometimes  wear  this  "  red  snow  "  —  an  appear- 
ance attributed  by  some  to  the  spreading  luxuriance 
of  a  plant  known  as  the  Protococcus  Nivalis ;  by 
othersit  is  described  as  a  net-work  of  fungi,  or  crim- 
son dust.  As  a  late  explorer  says  of  the  "  crimson 
cliffs  of  Beverly,"  one  might  imagine  it  "  the  work 
of  a  Titan,   with  his  dredging-box   of  cayenne   or 


HENRY   HUDSON. 


209 


brick-dust."     It  lias  occasionally  been  found  to  ex. 
tend  to  a  deptli  of  ten  or  twelve  feet. 

The  innumerable  gulfs,  the  fissured  rocks  along 
the  coast,  "  Icy  Peak,"  with  its  immense  vault  and 
lofty  crystal  spires,  reflecting  a  brilliancy  perceived 
at  a  distance  of  ten  leagues,  and  the  long  chain  of  in- 
land mountains,  beyond  which  even  the  hardy  native 
has  never  yet  passed,  offered  no  temptation  to  the 
already  half-frozen  explorers,  who  beheld  in  this 
country  of  rocks  —  this  "  image  of  chaos  and  winter  " 
-—  only  the  portal  of  the  vast  region  they  had  under- 
taken to  penetrate. 

Hudson  hoped  that  Greenland  would  prove  to  be 
an  island,  and,  expecting  soon  to  reach  its  extremity, 
sailed  northeasterly.  The  head-land,  first  discovered, 
he  called  "Young's  Cape,"  and  a  high  mountain, 
"like  a  round  castle,"  seen  in  the  distance,  he  called, 
in  true  primitive  style,  "Mount  of  God's  Mercy." 
He  soon  lost  sight  of  land,  owing  to  the  thick  fogs, 
occasioned  by  melting  ice.  The  Greenlander,  on  the 
main  land,  is  often  blessed  with  a  clear,  pure  air,  du- 
ring summer;  but  the  surrounding  sea  is  covered 
with  so  dense  a  fog,  that  it  is  difficult  to  see  from  one 
end  of  a  ship  to  the  other  —  a  circumstance  which 
renders  navigation  extremely  dangerous.  Beside  this 
difficulty,  Hudson  had  to  contend  with  sudden  squalls, 
contrary  winds,  driving  rains  and  sleet,  and  floating 
icebergs.  Finding  it  impossible  to  continue  a  north- 
easterly course  to  advantage,  he  steered  east,  in  quest 
of  Spitzbergen,   and   descried  land  between   thoso 


210         DISCOVERERS    A]!q-D   PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA. 

islands  and  the  coast  of  Greenland,  which  he  named 
the  land  of  ''  Hold  with  Hope." 

Soon  after,  he  came  in  sight  of  the  mountains  of 
Spitzbergen,  which,  crowned  with  perpetual  snow, 
and  flanked  with  glaciers,  reflect,  to  a  great  distance, 
a  light  equal  to  that  of  the  full  moon.  The  blocks 
of  red  granite  of  which  they  are  supposed  to  be  com- 
posed, shine  like  brilliant  fires  in  the  midst  of  flashing 
diamonds  and  sapphires  of  ice,  as  if  the  exiled  Scan- 
dinavian gods  had  taken  refuge  there,  and  kindled 
beacon-fires  upon  the  craggy  clifi's.  These  mountains 
are  described  by  IVIalte-Brun,  as  of  enormous  eleva- 
tion, "  shooting  abruptly  from  the  bosom  of  the  sea, 
to  such  a  height,  that  the  bays,  vessels,  whales,  every- 
thing, in  short,  appears,  in  their  vicinity,  extremely 
minute."  Flowers  are  also  said  to  spring  up  and  blos- 
som upon  these  desolate  islands,  during  the  short, 
nightless  summer.  A  chaplet  of  popjoy  flowers  was 
once  gathered  there,  but,  veined  as  they  were  with 
delicate  frost-work,  and  nurtured,  as  they  had  been, 
from  their  birth,  by  the  north  wind,  they  must  have 
melted  away  and  vanished  in  the  sheltering  hand  of 
the  gatherer,  as  suddenly  as  a  snow-wreath  in  the  sun 
or  as  Hawthorne's  snow-child,  when  housed  by  its 
pitying  play-fellows. 

Hudson,  like  all  who  had  preceded,  or  who  fol- 
lowed him,  was  struck  with  the  solemn  and  mysteri- 
ous aspect  of  those  gloomy  regions,  often  vailed,  as 
they  were,  in  deceptive  mists.  He  lingered  along 
the  coast  of  Spitzbergen  for  nearly  a  fortnight,  some- 

14 


HEXEY    nUDSON.  211 

times  landing,  in  quest  of  morses  and  seals,  or  to 
attack  the  formidable  polar  bear,  wliicli  so  singularly 
and  fearlessly  enthrones  itself  upon  the  floating  islets, 
or  bravely  resists  the  hunter,  among  the  ragged  rocks 
on  the  main-land.  At  last,  catching  a  favorable  wind, 
Hudson  again  directed  his  prow  to  the  north,  pressing 
his  way,  amidst  frequent  dangers,  towards  the  dreary 
waste  wdiich  stretched  beyond  Spitzbergen.  The  sea 
was,  at  times,  green,  blue,  or  black  ;  at  one  moment 
it  exhibited  an  open  surface,  the  next,  was  covered 
with  immense  blocks  of  ice,  which  appeared  as  unex- 
pectedly as  if  created  by  the  power  of  a  mischievous 
Thor. 

On  one  occasion,  when  the  ship  stood  idly  waiting 
a  breeze,  upon  the  smooth,  open  sea,  a  sudden,  rush- 
ing sound  alarmed  the  sailors,  and,  while  conjectur- 
ing its  nature,  they  beheld  an  army  of  icebergs 
advancing  from  the  distance,  over  a  rolling  sea. 
Expecting  to  be  crushed  between  the  immense 
blocks  riding  fiercely  and  swiftly  towards  them,  they 
attempted  to  lower  the  boat  as  the  only  means  of 
escape  from  the  still  becalmed  ship,  but  the  waves 
grew  rapidly  boisterous,  and  they  w^ere  left  with  the 
alternative  of  being  swamped  in  the  open  boat,  or  of 
braving  an  unwelcome  death  in  the  ship.  Their  stout 
hearts  quaked  with  fear  ;  but,  while  hopelessly  watch- 
ng  the  closer  approach  of  the  dreaded  icebergs,  an 
unexpected  gale  sprang  up  from  the  north-west,  filled 
the  sails,  and  bore  the  ship  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
sweeping  array,  so  quickly  summoned  from  the  re- 


212         DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

cesses  of  northern  bays.  "God  give  ns  thankful 
hearts  for  so  great  deliverance,"  is  Hudson's  expres- 
sion, in  his  journal  of  the  occurrence.  This  event,  to- 
gether with  serious  detention  by  fogs,  inadequate 
provisions  for  a  longer  voyage,  and  the  close  of  the 
short  Arctic  summer,  decided  Hudson  to  attempt 
no  farther  progress.  Accordingly,  he  steered  for 
England,  and  arrived  in  the  Thames  after  an  absence 
of  four  months  and  a  half. 

The  object  for  which  he  had  been  sent  was  yet  far 
from  being  accomplished ;  but  his  voyage  had  not 
been  fruitless.  It  had  opened  to  England  the  new 
and  profitable  commerce  of  the  whale  fisheries,  and 
had  carried  discovery  farther  north  than  any  mariner 
had  hitherto  dared  to  go ;  Hudson  had  also  acquired 
by  it  an  experience  which  would  greatly  aid  him  in 
prosecuting  a  second  voyage  more  vigorously.  These 
considerations  induced  the  London  company  to  em- 
ploy him  the  following  year. 

More  complete  preparations  to  meet  the  rigors  of 
a  polar  climate,  were  made  early  in  the  spring  of 
1608.  The  ship,  with  a  crew  of  fifteen  men,  inclu- 
ding Hudson's  son  again,  was  in  readiness  more 
promptly  than  in  the  preceding  season.  Intending  to 
find  a  passage  in  the  north-east  instead  of  the  north- 
west, Hudson  sailed  from  London  the  22d  of  April. 
Heavy  fogs  prevented  his  rapid  progress,  so  that  he 
did  not  reach  the  coast  of  Norway  till  the  21:th  of 
May.  After  this,  a  few  days  of  clear,  cold  weather 
enabled  him  to  press  at  good  speed  to  the  north-east 


HENKY    HUDSON.  213 

By  the  29th,  they  had  reached  so  high  a  latitude  that 
"  the  sun  was  on  meridian  above  the  horizon  five  de- 
grees," enabling  Hudson  to  make  observations  at  mid- 
night. Continuing  his  desired  course  as  nearly  as 
possible,  despite  the  storms  that  now  assailed  them,  the 
ship  was  soon  ploughing  its  way  through  the  icy  sea, 
avoiding  the  larger  masses  of  ice,  and  loosening  the 
smaller  fragments,  till  five  leagues  of  the  frozen  field 
had  been  measured.  The  thickness  and  firmness  of 
the  ice  through  which  a  path  was  now  to  be  forced, 
alarmed  Hudson,  lest  he  had  ventured  too  far,  and 
would  be  held  in  an  interminable  winter,  to  suffer 
and  to  perish,  beyond  the  hailing  voice  of  the  most 
darino:  navio^ators  who  mis^ht  follow  him.  He  re- 
traced,  as  hastily  as  possible,  the  course  by  which  he 
had  entered  these  forbidding  regions,  having  experi- 
enced no  damage  except,  as  he  says,  "  a  few  rubs  of 
the  ship  against  the  ice." 

He  now  continued  his  voyage  directly  east,  some- 
times attempting  to  turn  his  prow  to  a  higher  latitude, 
but  always  driven  back  by  the  ice.  Finding  himself 
in  the  vicinity  of  ]N^ova  Zembla,  he  resolved  to  abandon 
his  hitherto  fruitless  efforts,  and  seek  a  passage  by  the 
straits  of  "  the  Yaygatz,  and  decided  to  pass  by  the 
mouth  of  the  River  Ob,  and  to  double,  in  that  way, 
the  Xorth  Cape  of  Tartaria."  These  straits  are  be- 
tween the  southern  extremity  of  ISTova  Zembla  and 
the  northen  coast  of  Kussia.  While  seeking  the 
island,  two  of  the  sailors  asserted  that  they  distinctly 
Raw  a  mermaid  floating  about  the  ship,  one  morning, 


214         DISCOVERERS    AliD    PIONEERS    OF   A^IERICA. 

and  described  her  as  very  fair,  with  long  b".  ack  hair 
flowing  from  her  perfectly  formed  head.  A  sea  sud- 
denly overturned  her  while  they  were  watching  her, 
and  they  beheld  her  glide  away  into  the  waves,  and 
down  to  the  "  purple  twilight  "  of  a  lower  sea.  The 
imagined  sight  was  enough  to  bring  out  the  "  sailor's 
reel  "  during  the  remainder  of  the  voyage. 

When  within  two  miles  of  ]N"ova  Zenibla,  Hudson 
sent  several  of  the  crew  ashore  to  survey  the  island, 
or  rather  the  two  islands  which  torm  it.  "  Each  of 
them  is  divided  from  north  to  south  by  a  prolonga- 
tion of  the  Uralian  mountains,  but  they  consist  chiefly 
of  a  marshy,  moss-clad  plain."  The  mariners  found 
several  streams  rolling  towards  the  sea,  but  they  were 
mostly  occasioned  by  melting  snow.  Without  at- 
tempting to  venture  far  upon  the  marshes,  they  con- 
tented themselves  with  gathering  flowers  and  moss- 
es, and  obtaining  a  piece  from  a  cross  they  found 
erected  near  the  shore,  and  then  returned  to  the  ship. 

Afterwards,  while  pursuing  a  herd  of  morses,  swim- 
ming near  the  ship,  Hudson  found  himself  at  the 
mouth  of  a  broad  river  or  sound,  and,  thinking  he 
might  pass  through  it  to  the  eastern  side  of  jN'ova 
Zembla,  he  abandoned  his  intention  of  going  by  the 
Yaygatz  Straits.  Several  of  his  men,  who  were  sent 
to  explore  it  for  some  distance,  returned  with  the  fa- 
vorable report  that  the  river  was  two  or  three  leagues 
broad,  with  a  strong  outward  current.  Encouraged 
by  this,  Hudson  immediately  steered  up  the  river, — 
proceeding  nine  leagues  with  his  ship.     The  boat  was 


HENEY   HUDSON.  215 

then  rigged  with  a  sail,  and  manned  by  several  of  the 
crew,  to  explore  the  river,  till  it  was  found  to  bend 
to  the  eastward.  They  returned  the  next  day,  with 
the  unwelcome  news  that  they  had  sounded  the  river 
at  seven  leagues,  and  found  but  four  feet  of  water. 

Hudson  was  severely  disappointed  at  this  result, 
for  the  lateness  of  the  season  now  prevented  his  pas- 
sage by  the  Yaygatz,  and  he  disliked  to  return  from 
60  unprofitable  a  voyage.  Hoping,  at  least,  to  defray 
the  expenses  incurred,  by  obtaining  morses,  he  di- 
verged from  a  direct  homeward  route ;  but  in  this, 
also,  he  was  unsuccessful,  and,  unwilling  to  "lay 
more  charge  upon  the  action  than  necessity  should 
compel,"  he  honorably  abandoned  further  search  and 
returned  to  England,  after  an  absence  of  little  more 
than  four  months. 

The  company  by  whom  he  was  employed,  were  dis- 
appointed at  his  failure,  and  refused  to  bear  the  ex- 
pense of  a  third  voyage,  at  present.  Hudson  had 
become  too  deeply  interested  in  the  project  to  aban- 
don it  thus,  and,  unwilling  to  wait  the  pleasure  of 
the  London  Company,  he  went  immxcdiately  to  Hol- 
land, to  offer  his  services  to  the  Dutch  East  India 
Company.  ISTotwithstanding  the  discouraging  voice 
of  one  of  their  number,  who  had  himself  ventured 
largely  in  Arctic  voyages,  they  readily  accepted  Hud- 
son's proposal,  for  his  fame  had  often  reached  them; 
indeed,  he  was  well  known  in  Holland  as  "  the  bold 
Englishman,  the  expert  pilot,  and  the  famous  naviga- 
tor,''    A  small  ship  or  yacht,  named  the  Half  Moon, 


216         DISCOVERERS    AXD    PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA. 

was  soon  equipped  and  provided  with  a  crew  of  six- 
teen or  twenty  English  and  Dutchmen,  among  whom 
was  Robert  Juet,  who  had  accompanied  him  in  his 
former  voyage,  and  who  was  ultimately  to  bear  so 
despicable  a  part  in  the  closing  tragedy  of  Hudson's 
life. 

By  the  25th  of  March,  the  Half  Moon  sailed  from 
Amsterdam,  and,  by  the  27th,  had  lost  sight  of  the 
towers,  cupolas  and  spires  of  Amsterdam,  with  the 
vast,  flat  meadow  that  surrounds  it,  and  had  safely 
navigated  the  perilous  Zuyderzee,  and  passed  the 
Texel.  In  another  month,  Hudson  had  sailed  beyond 
J^orway,  doubled  the  North  Cape,  and  was  once  more 
struggling  with  head  winds,  ice,  and  fogs,  in  vain  at- 
tempts to  reach  India  by  the  Yaygatz.  Determined 
not  to  lose  the  season  in  fruitless  plans,  he  immedi- 
ately determined  to  abandon  the  north-eastern  route, 
and  resume  his  former  efforts  in  the  west.  Of  several 
plans,  he  proposed  two  to  the  choice  of  liis  crew  — 
either  to  find  a  north-western  passage  by  Davis' 
Straits,  or  to  sail  south,  in  quest  of  a  strait  which  was 
laid  down  upon  a  map,  given  him  by  his  old  friend, 
Captain  John  Smith,  as  being  near  Virginia,  and  by 
which  he  might  reach  the  Pacific.  Most  of  the  sail- 
ors had  been  accustomed  to  voyaging  in  warm  cli- 
mates, and,  dreading  the  horrors  of  frozen  regions, 
chose  the  southern  route. 

After  touching  at  the  Faroe  Islands,  Hudson  steered 
for  IN'ewfoundland.  A  severe  gale,  and  a  prolonged 
storm  of  three  weeks,  seriously  disabled  the  ship  for 


HENKY   HUDSON.  217 

a  time,  and  discouraged  the  voyagers  ;  but  the  return 
of  fair  weather  permitted  them  to  make  repaire,  and 
restored  their  failing  spirits.  When  arrived  off  the 
coast  of  Newfoundland,  they  discovered  a  large  fleet 
of  Frenchmen,  engaged  in  fishing,  and,  finding  them- 
selves becalmed,  took  the  boat  and  joined  in  the  oc- 
cupation. They  were  successful  enough  to  secure  one 
hundred  and  thirty  codfish,  to  be  added  to  their  ship- 
stores.  After  resuming  the  voyage,  they  passed  'No- 
va Scotia,  and  in  a  few  days  anchored  in  Penobscot 
Bay.  The  natives  flocked  to  the  ship  in  great  num- 
bers, eager  to  exchange  furs  for  knives,  hatchets  and 
various  trinkets.  They  were  friendly,  unsuspicious, 
and  gave  no  reason  for  the  treatment  they  afterwards 
experienced  from  the  crew.  A  strict  watch  was 
kept  upon  them  at  night,  and,  although  not  a  sign, 
of  treachery  was  discovered,  the  night  before  the  ship 
set  sail,  the  "  scute  "  was  manned  with  six  well-armed 
men,  and  sent  to  seize  one  of  the  shallops  in  which 
the  Indians  had  visited  them.  They  brought  it  on 
board,  and  then  again  went  to  the  shore,  drove  the 
savages  from  their  wigwams,  and  took  possession  of 
all  their  simple  effects  —  a  proceeding  as  base  as  it 
was  unchristian.  The  poor,  uncivilized  savages  them- 
selves were  nobler,  and  purer  than  this  unprincipled 
crew,  whose  whole  route  was  marked  by  riot  and 
drunkenness.  Hudson  must  either  have  been  an  irres- 
olute commander,  or  an  accustomed  participator  in 
in  such  scenes. 

The.  morning   after  this  outrage,  Hudson  set  sail, 
J 


218         DISOOVJLRERS    AOT)    PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA. 

steering  southward  along  the  coast  of  the  continent. 
At  Cape  Cod,  his  men  went  ashore  and  found  an 
abundance  of  "goodly  grapes,"  which  they  bore  to 
the  ship  like  the  trophies  of  Eshcol,  to  show  "  the 
fruit  of  the  land," 

Hudson  next  passed  ]K"antucket  and  Martha's  Yine 
yard,  and  from  these,  continued  a  southern  course  til) 
he  reached  the  Carolinas,  and  then  turned  again  to 
the  north,  having  satisfied  himself  that  no  passage  to 
the  Pacific  Ocean  existed  there.  Upon  his  return, 
he  discovered  the  bay,  since  called  Delaware  Bay, 
but  made  no  attempt  to  land.  He  then  coasted 
northward,  "  passing  along  a  low,  mai^hy  coast  skirt- 
ed with  broken  ishands,"  and  in  a  few  days  the  high- 
lands of  Neversink  greeted  his  sight.  On  the  mor- 
ning of  the  4th  of  September,  he  anchored  within 
Sandy  Hook  Bay,  willing  to  recruit  after  a  long  voy- 
age, before  exploring  the  wooded  islands  and  minia- 
ture capes  and  promotories  that  thrust  themselves  out 
a]l  along  tlie  main  land,  as  if  to  compete  for  the  first 
footsteps  of  the  strangers.  ""It  is  a  very  good  land  to 
fall  in  with,  and  a  pleasant  land  to  see,"  Pludson  sum- 
marily recorded  in  his  journaL 

While  at  anchor  here,  Hudso-n  sent  several  of  his 
men  with  nets  to  fish,  and  it  is  supposed  they  landed 
on  Coney  Island.  They  returned  to  the  ship  with  the 
spoil,  and  gave  a  glowing  account  of  plum-trees, 
laden  with  ripe,  purple  fruit,  and  draped  and  em- 
bowered in  a  rich  growth  of  grape-vines,  which  eve- 
rywhere hung  out  their  tempting  clusters.     In  tho 


HENRY   HUDSON.  219 

meantime,  the  natives,  wlio  had  noticed  the  arrival  of 
the  ship  with  wonder  and  curiosity,  crowded  to  the 
shore  ;  finally,  a  few  summoned  sufficient  courage  to 
venture  in  canoes,  to  get  a  nearer  view  of  the  formi- 
dable Dutch  craft.  By  the  following  morning,  the 
Jersey  shore  was  lined  with  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren, who  eagerly  awaited  the  landing  of  the  welcome 
visitors,  and  enticed  them  with  lively  gestures.  The 
sight  of  the  green  slopes,  the  dark  billows  of  foliage 
upon  the  distant  hills,  the  bright  blossoms  of  the  dog- 
wood and  wild  briar,  the  changing  leaves  of  the  gay 
sumach,  and  the  drooping,  trailing  vines  overhanging 
the  water's  edge  with  their  ripe  burdens,  was  too  al- 
luring to  be  withstood,  when  compared  with  the  late- 
ly seen,  bleak  and  barren  regions  of  the  north.  As 
Boon,  therefore,  as  Hudson  dispatched  his  men  to 
sound  the  bay,  they  turned  their  boat  to  the  shore. 

Attracted  by  the  beauty  of  the  forest,  and  disarmed 
of  fear  by  the  extreme  kindness  of  the  natives,  they 
rambled  for  miles  back  into  the  wilderness,  followed 
all  the  way  by  troops  of  Indians,  and  met  by  others, 
of  seeming  superiority,  who  wore  mantles  of  fur  or 
feathers,  and  displayed  an  abundance  of  copper  orna- 
ments. That  they  forgot  their  own  magnificence  in 
amazement  at  the  quaint,  outlandish  costume  of  the 
strangers,  is  not  to  be  wondered  at ;  for,  should  a  Dutch 
craft  of  two  centuries  ago,  not  very  unlike  the  one 
Irving  humorously  describes  as  "  one  hundred  feet  in 
the  beam,  one  hundred  feet  in  the  keel,  and  one  hun- 
r3red  feet  from  the  bottom   of  the  stern  post  to  the 


220         DISC0YEEE.R3    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

taffrel,"  sail  now  into  the  enlivened  bay,  and  its  crew 
land  upon  the  same  shores,  equipped  in  doublets  and 
jerkins,  enormous  breeches,  cocked  hats,  and  high- 
heeled  shoes,  a  far  greater  curiosity  would  be  mani* 
fested,  even  in  these  days  of  wonders,  than  was  be- 
trayed by  the  stately  and  grave  politeness  of  the  un- 
tutored warriors. 

Many  traditions  of  Hudson's  first  lauding  are  pre- 
served. One,  well  authenticated  as  having  been  re- 
lated to  a  missionary  by  the  Indians,  is  given  in  sev- 
eral historical  collections,  as  follows  :  "  A  long  time 
ago,  when  there  w^as  no  such  thing  known  to  the  In- 
dians as  people  with  a  white  skin,  some  Indians  who 
had  been  out  a  fishing,  and  where  the  sea  widens,  es- 
pied at  a  great  distance,  something  remarkably  large, 
swimming  or  floating  on  the  water,  and  such  as  they 
had  never  seen  before.  They  immediately,  returning 
to  the  shore,  told  their  countrymen  of  what  they  had 
seen,  and  pressed  them  to  go  out  with  them,  and  dis- 
cern what  it  might  be.  .  .  .  Accordingly,  tliey 
sent  runners  to  carry  the  news  to  their  scattered 
chiefs,  that  they  might  send  off  in  every  direction  for 
the  warriors  to  come  in.  These  now  came  in  num-- 
bers,  and  seeing  the  strange  appearance,  and  that  it 
was  actually  moving  forward,  concluded  that  it  was 
a  large  canoe,  or  house,  in  which  the  Great  Manitto 
himself  was,  and  that  he  probably  was  coming  to 
visit  them.  .  .  .  They  now  prepared  plenty  of 
meat  for  a  sacrifice ;  the  women  were  required  to  pre- 
pare the  best  of  victuals ;  their  idols  or  images  were 


HENUr   HUDSON.  223 

examiDed  and  put  in  order  ;  and  a  grand  dance  was 
supposed  not  only  to  be  an  agreeable  entertainment 
for  the  Manitto,  but  might,  with  the  addition  of  a 
sacrifice,  contribute  towards  appeasing  him,  in  case 
he  was  angrj.  ...  It  now  appeared  certain  that 
it  was  their  Manltto-coming,  bringing,  probably,  some 
new  kind  of  game.  But  other  runners  now  came  in, 
declaring  that  it  was  a  house  of  various  colors  and 
filled  with  people,  but  that  the  people  were  of  a  dif- 
ferent color  from  thes^elves ;  that  they  were,  also, 
dressed  in  a  difi'erent  manner  from  themselves,  and 
that  one,  in  particular,  appeared  altogether  red.  This 
they  they  thought  must  be  the  Manitto  himself  They 
were  now  lost  in  admiration.  .  .  .  The  house  (or 
large  canoe)  stopped,  and  a  smaller  canoe  now  came 
on  shore,  bringing  the  red  raan,  and  some  others  in 
it.  The  chiefs  and  wise  men  formed  a  circle,  into 
which  the  red-clothed  man  and  two  others  approached. 
He  saluted  them  with  a  friendly  countenance,  and 
they  returned  the  salute  after  their  manner.  They 
were  amazed  at  the  color  of  their  skin  and  dress,  par- 
ticularly at  the  red  man,  whose  clothes  glittered  with 
sometliing  they  could  not  account  for.  He  must  be 
he  great  Manitto,  they  thought,  but  then  why  should 
he  have  a  white  skin  ?  A  large,  elegant  hockliack 
was  brought  forward  by  one  of  the  Maaitto's  ser- 
vants, and  something  poured  from  it  into  a  small  cup 
or  glass,  and  handed  to  the  Manitto.  He  drank  it, 
had  the  cup  refilled,  and  had  it  handed  to  the  chief 
next  to  him,  for  him  to  drink.     The  chief  too*^  it 


f 


222         DISCOVERERS   AND   PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA. 

smelt  it,  and  passed  it  to  the  next,  who  did  the  same. 
The  cup  passed  in  this  way  round  the  circle,  nntasted, 
and  was  about  to  be  returned  to  the  red  clothed  man, 
when  one  of  their  number,  a  spirited  man,  and  a 
great  warrior,  jumped  up,  and  harangued  the  multi- 
tude on  the  impropriety  of  returning  the  cup  unemp- 
tied.  He  said  it  was  handed  to  them  by  the  Manitto 
to  drink  out  of,  as  he  had  done ;  that  to  follow  his 
example  would  please  him,  but  to  return  what  he  had 
given  them  might  provoke  him,  and  cause  him  to 
destroy  them.  And  that  since  he  believed  it  to  be 
for  the  good  of  the  nation,  that  the  contents  offered 
them  should  be  drunk,  if  no  one  else  was  willing  to 
drink,  he  would  try  it,  let  the  consequence  be  what 
it  would,  for  it  was  better  for  one  man  to  die,  than 
that  a  wliole  nation  should  be  destroyed.  He  then 
took  the  glass,  smelt  it,  addressed  them  again,  and 
bidding  them  all  farewell,  drank  it.  All  eyes  were 
now  fixed  upon  him,  to  see  what  effect  this  would 
produce.  He  soon  began  to  stagger,  and  the  women 
cried,  supposing  he  had  fits.  Presently  he  rolled  on 
the  ground,  and  they  all  began  to  bemoan  him,  sup- 
posing him  to  be  dying.  Then  he  fell  asleep,  and 
they  now  thought  he  was  dead,  but  presently  they 
saw  that  he  was  still  breathing.  In  a  little  time  he 
awoke,  jumped  up,  and  declared  that  he  never  felt 
himself  so  happy  before,  as  when  he  had  drunk  the 
cup.  He  asked  for  more,  which  was  given  to  him, 
and  the  whole  assembly  soon  joined  him,  and  all  be- 
came intoxicated.     While  the  intoxication  lasted,  the 


HENRY   HITDSON.  223 

white  men  kept  themselves  in  their  vessel,  and  when 
it  was  ©ver,  the  man  with  the  red  clothes  again  re- 
turned to  them,  bringing  them  presents  of  beads, 
axes,  hoes,  and  stockings." 

A  Dutch  historian,  who  had  himself  visited  Amer- 
ica, and  who  wrote  his  history  only  forty-three  years 
after  Hudson  made  the  voyage,  relates  a  similar  tra- 
dition. It  is  found,  also,  in  a  history  written  forty- 
one  years  after  the  occurrence,  and,  from  its  perfect 
accordance  with  the  character  of  the  crew,  it  may  be 
esteemed  a  correct  relation. 

Hudson  and  his  men,  according  to  their  own  ac- 
count, regarded  the  Indians  with  distrust,  although 
they  gave  no  occasion  for  it,  till,  one  dark  night,  when 
an  exploring  party  were  returniug  in  a  boat  to  the 
ship,  they  suddenly  encountered  two  skiffs  containing 
twenty-six  Indians,  who  immediately  discharged  their 
arrows  at  random,  in  the  direction  of  the  retreatin.o- 
boat.  Whether  the  attack  was  meditated,  or  whether 
the  unexpected  meeting  frightened  them,  can  only 
be  judged  by  their  subsequent  conduct.  They  made 
no  display  of  hostility  the  following  day,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  went  unarmed,  and  with  innocent  faces,  to 
the  ship,  trusting  themselves  to  the  power  of  the 
whites,  in  a  manner  which,  at  least,  did  not  betray 
guilt.  One  of  the  crew  was  killed  by  an  arrow  du- 
ring the  sudden  affray,  and  was  buried  at  Sandy 
Hook,  upon  a  spot  named  Colman's  Point,  in  memory 
of  his  loss. 

The   next  day,  two  long  canoes,  one  filled  with 


224:  DISCO VEREES    AND    PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

armed  warnors,  the  other  with  trader^,,  approached 
the  ship.  Hudson  would  not  permit  them  to  come 
on  board,  with  the  exception  of  two  men  whom  he 
dressed  in  red  coats,  and  detained  ae.  hostages ;  and 
with  these  he  sailed  into  the  ISTarrows,  and  from 
thence  into  the  Bay  of  ^qw  York.  Here  he  re- 
mained for  a  day  ;  his  solitary  ship  tracking  the  wa- 
ters of  the  beautiful  bay  which,  in  the  future,  was  to 
bear  upon  its  bosom  the  stately  steamers  and  grace- 
ful fleets  of  many  nations.  On  the  one  hand  stretched 
the  low  shores  of  Long  Island,  and,  on  the  other, 
knolls  of  "  smiling  green  "  rose,  one  above  another. 
The  trees  waved  a  greeting  from  the  hill-tops,  and 
brilliant  blossoms  nodded  a  cheerful  welcome  from 
the  sloping  banks.  Before  him  lay  the  island  of  Man- 
hattan, in  rich  undulations  of  hill  and  dale,  variega- 
ted with  the  dark,  shining  foliage  of  the  oak,  and  the 
pale  green  of  the  sycamore.  Quiet  and  loneliness 
rested  upon  the  island,  which  nearly  a  million  now 
call  home ;  and  scarcely  a  wave  disturbed  the  waters 
where  now  a  forest  of  masts  girdles  the  city,  as  if 
the  bristling  legions  of  ancient  armies,  with  their 
chariots,  spears,  and  floating  banners,  had  encircled  it. 
The  great  river  which  Hudson  now  beheld  gliding 
into  the  bay  from  the  north,  suggested  to  him  that 
here  he  might  find  the  passage  to  India  or  China, 
which  he  had  so  long  sought  —  an  idea  easily  ridi- 
culed, now  that  it  is  proved  fallacious,  but  no  more 
chimerical,  at  that  time,  than  a  thousand  others  en- 
tertained bv  his  cotemporaries.     Accordingly,  the 


HENRY    HUDSON.  225 

Half  Moon  -was  soon  slowly  creeping  up  the  wide 
river,  occasionally  anchoring  in  its  lazy  course.  In- 
dians came  shooting  out  from  the  shores,  here  and 
there,  in  their  canoes,  laden  with  provisions,  and  cor- 
dially offering  their  simple  hospitality.  All  were  re- 
pulsed with  a  distrust  which  they  were  quick  to  per- 
ceive, and  ready  to  return. 

By  the  fourteenth  of  September,  the  ship  "  anchored 
in  a  region  where  the  land  was  very  high  and  moun- 
tainous." At  last,  then,  the  little  vessel,  with  its  quaint 
crew,  had  reached  the  Highlands.  Used,  as  Hudson 
was,  to  the  monotonous  undulations  of  his  own  coun- 
try, and  to  dreary  stretches  of  eternal  ice  and  snow, 
and  accustomed,  as  the  Dutch  mariners  were,  to  gaze 
upon  the  flat  meadows  of  Holland,  they  must  have 
found  a  novel  charm  in  this  wild  overhanging  of  pre- 
cipices, the  lofty  pyramids  of  foliage,  and  the  wide, 
smooth  river,  enclosed  among  the  mountains  like  a 
chain  of  lakelets,  or  as  if  a  Loch  Lomond,  with  its 
Scottish  heights,  had  been  transported  to  the  midst 
of  the  rich  region  they  traversed.  They  had  passed 
the  Palisades, 

" those  pillared  heights,  in  grandeur  lone, 


Oft  visioned  to  our  dumb  and  dreamy  wonder, 
One  long  xsiagara,  changed  to  silent  stone." 

All  night,  the  ship  was  moored  beneath  the  tower- 
ing Highlands,  within  hearing   of  the   roar   of  wild 
beasts,  and  the  screeching  of  night-birds ;  perhaps, 
too,  the  beacon  fires  of  the  Indians  gleamed  from  the 
J*  15 


226         DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF    AilERICA. 

Jiills,  as  a  warning  of  the  invasion  of  a  new  and  un- 
friendly people.  At  sunrise,  a  mist  hung  over  tlie 
river,  and  whitened  the  mountains  of  forest,  but  a 
fresh  breeze  soon  swept  it  awaj,  and  again  the  ship 
was  gliding  through  the  windings  of  the  Highlands. 
Here  the  two  natives  who  had  been  gaudily  decked 
out,  and  retained  as  hostages,  leaped  into  the  water, 
swam  to  the  shore,  and  vented  either  their  delight  at 
regained  freedom,  or  anger  at  their  captors,  in  loud 
cries,  and  "scornful  looks."  Hudson  regretted  their 
escape. 

The  ship,  it  is  supposed,  was  next  anchored  near 
,  Catskill  Landing;  they  had  "passed  by  the  high 
i&ountains  "  and  arrived  in  sight  of  others  "  which  lie 
from  the  river's  side."  Unlike  the  changed  shores  of 
the  river,  they  are  yet,  as  when  JIudson  beheld  them, 
unscathed  by  the  axe,  the  plow,  and  the  sythe  of 
the  unsparing  American.  We  still  see  them  rounded 
in  magical  hues  and  shapes  against  the  sky,  in  the 
pearly  mists  of  morning,  or  softly  lined  by  the  shad- 
ows of  evening. 

"  Xay,  so  dim  the  distant  gleam 
And  faint  the  shadows,  that,  to  musing  eyes, 

The  snow  and  vapor  ghostly  forms  enshroud  — 
A  Hamlet's  father,  helmet-crowned  and  pale. 

Or,  turbaned  in  the  summit-wreaths  of  cloud, 
The  Prophet  of  Khorassan,  with  his  Silver  Veil." 

Here  Hudson  found  "  very  loving  people,  and  very 
old  men,"  whose  offers  of  hospitality  were  more  kind- 
ly received  than  those  of  the  war-like  tribes  below 


HENRY    nUDSON.  227 

ETe  was  cntertaiBed  by  an  aged  chief,  and  a  liappy 
understanding  seemed  to  exist  between  them.  The 
natives  flocked  to  the  ship  with  provisions,  anxious  to 
exchange  them  for  the  showy  trinkets  the  Dutchmen 
offered.  A  day  passed  here  in  fishing  and  filling  the 
water  casks,  and,  on  the  following,  Hudson  continued 
his  progress  up  the  river,  till  he  arrived  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  the  jDresent  city  of  Hudson.  He  now  found  the 
river  growing  narrow  and  shallow  —  "a  phenomenon 
not  uncommon  in  the  ascent  of  rivers,''  says  an  au- 
thor, with  overflowing  humor,  "  but  which  puzzled 
the  honest  Dutchmen  prodigiously."  Doubting  the 
possibility  of  a  higher  ascent,  yet  unwilling  to  dis- 
miss, altogether,  his  cherished  surmise  that  it  would 
afford  an  opening  to  China,  he  ventured  six  leagues 
further,  where  the  ship  ran  aground.  He  then  dis- 
patched several  of  his  men  in  a  boat,  to  explore  the 
river,  and  take  soundings.  They  reported  the  nar- 
rowness of  the  channel,  but  Hudson  was  still  deter- 
mined to  move  up  the  river. 

On  the  morning  of  the  twenty-first,  it  was  his  inten- 
tion to  proceed ;  but  by  this  time  crowds  of  Indians 
had  pressed  around  the  ship,  and  clambered  upon  the 
deck.  They  were  regarded  with  coldness  and  re- 
serve. Hudson  determined  to  assure  himself  of  their 
intentions  by  causing  them  to  drink  deeply,  and  thus 
"  throw  them  off  their  guard."  Inducing  a  few  of  the 
chiefs  to  accompany  him  to  the  cabin,  he  entertained 
them  with  wine  till  they  "were  all  merry."  The 
wife  of  one  of  the  chiefs,  and  some  of  her  compan- 


22S         DISCOVEEEES    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

ions,  sat  near,  modestly  and  timidly  watching  the 
strange  proceedings,  and,  probably,  wondering  at  the 
unaccountable  merriment,  and  boisterous  movements 
of  the  usually  grave  chieftains.  The  cup  passed 
round  till  one  of  the  number  fell  into  the  lethargy  of 
drunkenness.  Unable  to  awaken  him,  the  rest  be- 
came alarmed,  and,  believing  him  poisoned,  or  under 
some  mysterious  spell,  fled  to  the  deck,  plunged  into 
their  canoes,  and,  with  all  speed,  made  for  the  shore. 
They  could  not  thus  forsake  one  of  their  number ; 
some  of  them  returned  with  long  strings  of  beads, 
hoping  to  buy  back  the  drunken  chief.  By  the  fol- 
lowing day,  he  recovered  from  the  effects  of  the  ex- 
periment which  Hudson  and  his  rolicking  crew,  de- 
void of  all  princijDle  and  honor,  had  imposed  upon  the 
innocent  natives,  introducins^  amono;  them  the  vices 
of  civilized  nations,  and  withholding  from  them  tho 
light  of  Truth  which  God  required  at  their  hands. 

After  having  explored  and  sounded  the  river  as  far 
as  the  site  of  Albany,  Hudson  was  obliged  to  yield 
his  02)inion,  and  return  by  the  way  he  entered. 
While  retracing  his  course,  some  of  his  men  occasion- 
ally landed,  and  strolled  along  the  banks,  admiring 
"  the  good  store  of  goodly  oaks  and  walnut  trees, 
and  chestnut  trees,  yew  trees,  and  tiees  of  sweet 
wood."  Thus  they  rambled  and  glided  down  the 
river,  and  through  the  wilderness  already  brilliant 
with  the  gorgeous  hues  of  October.  The  looming 
Catskills  again  attracted  their  admiring  eyes,  though 
Hudson  little  dreamed,  as  he  gazed,  that  he  should 


HENRY    HUDSON.  229 

ever  figure  tliere,  in  the  eyes  of  posterity,  as  "a  stout 
old  gentleman,  with  a  weather-beaten  countenance," 
wearinoj  "  a  lace  doublet,  broad  belt  and  hano^er,  hio-h- 
crowned  hat  and  feather,  red  stockings,  and  high- 
heeled  shoes,  with  roses  in  them,"  and  he  playing  at 
nine-pins  with  his  uncouth,  phantom  crew. 

After  passing  the  Highlands,  the  ship  was  once 
more  anchored,  and,  as  usual,  crowds  of  natives  has- 
tened to  dispose  of  their  furs  and  tobacco.  They  had 
not  sufficient  to  purchase  all  the  articles  their  eyes 
coveted,  and  one  Indian  was  prompted  to  steal  what 
he  could  not  otherwise  obtain.  Climbing  from  his 
canoe  to  the  cabin  window,  he  obtained  a  pillow  and 
some  clothing,  and  hastily  rowed  away  with  his  spoil. 
He  was  seen,  and,  in  another  moment,  was  struck 
down  by  a  well-aimed  shot.  The  ship's  boat  was 
manned  and  sent  for  the  stolen  articles,  which  were 
obtained,  but,  on  their  return,  an  Indian,  who  deter- 
mined to  revenge  the  death  of  his  comrade,  seized 
and  attempted  to  overturn  the  boat.  One  of  the  crew 
cut  ofi'  his  offending  hand  at  a  blow,  and  he  sank, 
never  to  rise  again.  Thus  were  the  fiercest  passions 
of  the  savages  called  forth  by  imcalled-for  severity, 
and  by  brutal  sporting  with  their  ignorance.  As 
might  be  expected,  by  the  time  the  Half  Moon 
reached  the  mouth  of  the  river,  the  Indians  were  pre- 
pared to  take  revenge  for  the  indignities  put  upon 
them.  Several  canoes,  filled  with  armed  warriors, 
intercepted  the  ship's  passage,  near  the  island  of 
Manhattan,  and  a  vigorous  fight  ensued.     Ten  In- 


230         DISCOYEEERS    AND    PIONEEES    OF   AMERICA. 

dians  were  shot  during  the  affray,  and  the  rest  fled  in 
terror  to  the  woods  for  shelter.  None  of  the  crew 
were  harmed. 

By  the.  fourth  of  October,  Hudson  was  again  at  sea. 
The  length  of  the  voyage  had  caused  much  dissatis- 
faction amonor  the  crew.  Some  wished  to  winter  at 
Newfoundland,  and  accomplish  the  object  for  which 
they  had  been  sent,  by  pursuing  a  northern  course, 
the  following  spring.  Others  desired  to  hasten 
home.  The  mutinous  spirit  that  existed  among  his 
men,  decided  Hudson  to  return  immediately  to  Hol- 
land, satisfied  in  having  discovered  for  his  patrons  a 
noble  stream,  navigable  for  more  than  one  hundred 
miles,  through  a  beautiful  and  fertile  region.  But, 
instead  of  returning  to  Holland,  he  landed  at  Dart- 
mouth, in  England,  in  consequence,  it  is  supposed,  of 
a  mutiny ;  the  Dutch  attribute  his  detention  there  to 
jealousy  of  the  English  king.  He  promptly  sent  the 
journal  and  charts  of  his  voyage  to  his  employers, 
and  depicted  the  advantages  they  might  derive  from 
their  acquisition  of  one  of  the  finest  harbors  yet 
discovered,  and  the  picturesque  and  majestic  river, 
which  he  named  the  "Great  River  of  the  Mountains," 
but  which  was,  eventually,  to  bear  his  own  name. 

Allowing  himself  only  the  repose  of  a  few  months, 
Hudson  was  actively  engaged  in  preparing  for  an- 
other voyage,  early  in  the  spring  of  1610.  The  Lon- 
don Company  furnished  him  with  the  ship  Discovery, 
of  fifty-five  tons.  It  was  thoroughly  equipped  for  a 
cruise  m  the  northern  seas,  and  manned  with  twenty- 


HENRY   UUDSON.  231 

three  men,  one  of  whom  was  Hudson's  son.  They 
sailed  from  London,  the  seventeenth  of  April,  and 
steered  for  the  north-western  inlets  of  the- Ame*'ican 
continent,  especially  Davis'  Straits,  hoping  to  find,  in 
some  one  of  them,  a,  channel  to  the  "  Great  South 
Sea." 

In  less  than  a  month,  the  Discovery  was  coasting 
Iceland  —  that  dreary  island  which  Malte-Brun  de- 
scribes as  "  a  land  of  prodigies,  where  the  subterra- 
neous fires  of  the  abyss  burst,  through  a  frozen  soil ; 
where  boiling  springs  shoot  up  their  fountains,  amidst 
eternal  snows;  and  where  the  powerful  genius  of 
liberty,  and  the  no  less  powerful  genius  of  poetry, 
have  given  brilliant  proofs  of  the  energies  of  the  hu- 
man mind,  at  the  farthest  confines  of  animated  nature." 
While  the  voyagers  were  struggling  through  the  shoals 
of  ice,  and  battling  with  the  winds,  which  often  bore 
along  columns  of  little,  icy  particles,  blinding  and 
painful  to  the  exposed  mariners,  they  beheld,  at  a  dis- 
tance of  scarcely  two  leagues,  the  shooting  flames  of 
Mount  Hecla,  and  the  red-hot  lava  overflowinir  its 
scarred  declivities.  Willing  to  recruit,  after  a  fort- 
night's endurance  of  storms  and  head  winds,  Hudson 
took  refuge  in  a  harbor  on  the  western  side  of  the 
island,  where  he  was  kindly  received  by  the  natives. 
The  sailors  amused  themselves  with  bathing  in  some 
of  the  hot  springs,  which  throw  up  streaming  jets  from 
all  the  plains  of  Iceland.  Although  "  hot  enough  to 
scald  a  fowl,"  as  Hudson's  journal  remarks,  and,  al- 
though the  inhabitants  often  make  use  of  them,  in 


232  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

boiling  vegetables,  meat,  or  eggs,  yet  the  sailors  suf 
fered  no  inconvenience  in  these  singular  baths.  The 
desolateness  of  the  snowy  valleys,  is  relieved  by  these 
fantastic  fountains,  which  rise  in  tall,  smoking  col- 
umns, hung  with  sparkling  girandoles. 

Not  satisfied  with  the  respite,  which  Hudson  thus 
considerately  afforded  his  men,  they  began  here  to 
exhibit  the  insubordinate  temper,  which  was  to  ter- 
minate so  fatally.  The  most  quarrelsome  of  the  crew 
were  Juet,  the  mate,  who  had  accompanied  Hudson 
on  his  previous  voyage,  and  Henry  Green,  a  young 
Englishman,  of  respectable  parentage,  but  whose 
profligacy  had  made  him  an  outcast.  Hudson  had 
found  him  almost  a  beggar,  in  the  streets  of  London, 
had  clothed  and  fed  him,  and  had  interceded  with  his 
mother  for  a  sum  of  money  to  fit  him  for  a  voyage ; 
he  then  ofi*ered  him  fair  wages  to  accompany  him, 
and,  in  order  to  awaken  his  ambition,  encouraged 
him  to  aspire  to  a  place  in  the  "Prince's  Guards," 
upon  his  return.  Hudson  extended  the  utmost  kind- 
ness and  forbearance  toward  these  two  abandoned 
men,  who,  though  bound  to  him  by  the  ties  of  grati- 
tude, and  frequent  fellowship  in  danger,  filled  up  the 
measure  of  their  degradation,  by  consigning  a  tried 
and  forgiving  friend  to  a  lingering  and  fearful  death. 

Hudson  succeeded  in  allaying  the  disturbance 
which  these  two  men  had  created  among  the  whole 
crew,  and,  when  he  left  Iceland,  supposed  that  kind- 
liness was  restored.  By  the  fourth  of  June,  they  be- 
held the  coast  of  Greenland,  but  the  shores  were  so 


HENRY   HUDSON.  238 

firmly  ice-bound  that  no  attempts  were  made  to  land. 
Doubling  the  southern  point,  he  steered  for  the  north- 
west portion  of  the  American  continent  —  though  his 
progress  was  often  seriously  obstructed  by  floating 
"  mountains  of  ice."  While  sailing  in  Davis'  Straits, 
he  was  in  the  close  vicinity  of  an  overturning  ice- 
berg —  a  phenomenon  occasioned  by  the  melting  of 
the  ice  upon  one  side,  and  its  consequent  loss  of  equi- 
librium. The  thick  fog,  by  which  the  melting 
masses  are  surrounded,  and  the  sort  of  whirlpool  at- 
tending their  wild  frolics,  causes  imminent  danger  to 
ships  in  their  neighborhood.  But  Hudson  had  scarcely 
time  to  be  grateful  for  his  escape,  before  another  and 
another  came  driving  in  his  course,  as  if  endowed 
with  malignant  intelligence,  and  a  determination  to 
bear  down  upon  his  frail  vessel,  and  sink  it  forever. 
Like  the  jealous  Japanese,  they  seemed  resolved  to 
keep  off  the  unwelcome  presence  of  intermeddling 
foreigners. 

It  required  Hudson's  utmost  skill  to  dodge  these 
threatening  rocks  of  ice,  and  he  was  glad  to  escape 
into  a  bay  that  offered  shelter.  He  had  no  sooner 
reached  it,  than  a  severe  storm  overtook  him,  and  the 
rapidly  accumulating  ice  was  driven  so  violently 
against  the  ship,  that  he  could  only  preserve  her 
from  destruction  by  running  her  into  the  thickest  of 
it,  and  permitting  it  to  lock  her  into  a  frozen  des- 
ert. Dismay  was  depicted  upon  the  countenances  of 
the  mariners.  Some  "  fell  sick  with  grief,"  but,  as 
soon  as  the  storm  ceased,  the  most  courageous  went 


23i         D1SC0VEREK3    AND    PIOKEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

lustily  to  work,  hewing  a  patli  for  the  ship.  They 
succeeded  in  hauling  her  from  one  clear  sea  to  an- 
other, yet,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  the  same 
field  of  ice  stretched  before  them,  and,  at  last,  they 
gave  up  in  despair. 

Hudson  afterwards  confessed  that  he  expected  to 
have  perished  there.  His  men,  however,  perceived 
no  misgiving  or  fear  in  his  demeanor.  He  preserved 
a  cheerful  countenance,  and  endeavored  to  recall  the 
vigor  and  animation  o^  the  crew,  who  had  yielded 
themselves  to  helpless  fear,  irritable  repinings,  or 
hardened  bravado.  The  trial  of  the  moment,  devel- 
oped the  characters  with  whom  Hudson  had  to  deal ; 
and  he  must  have  been  stung  with  the  ingratitude 
and  reckless  viliany,  now  clearly  exhibited  to  him  in 
the  conduct  of  those  whom  he  had  befriended. 
He  forebore  all  remonstrance  or  threats,  and,  with 
an  air  of  self-confidence  and  of  unbroken  hope,  he 
summoned  the  crew,  spread  his  charts  before  them, 
and  offered  to  their  choice  what  course  the}^  should 
pursue ;  whether  he  should  turn  his  prow  home- 
ward, or  should  still  press  to  the  ^north,  assuring 
them  with  pride,  that  they  had  already  outsailed  all 
English  navigators,  and  might  yet  secure  the  glory 
of  discovering  the  passage  so  perseveringly  sought 
for  many  years. 

As  he  anticipated,  no  two  could  agree,  and  they 
were  forced  to  see  that  they  did  not  know  themselves, 
what  they  desired.  The  majority  finally  declared 
it  mattered  little  where  they  went,  and  that   they 


HENRY   HUDSON.  235 

longed  only  to  escape  from  the  dismal  prospect  be- 
fore them.  Hudson  kindly  reasoned  with  the  most 
turbulent,  allayed  the  fears  of  the  timid,  and  in- 
spired the  hopeless  with  courage  and  strength.  He 
then  united  them  in  a  resolute  effort  to  extricate  the 
ship.  They  succeeded,  after  much  labor,  in  working 
her  out  of  the  broad  field  of  ice  which  had  so  speed- 
ily and  unexpectedly  enclosed  her.  Had  Hudson 
continued  to  exercise  the  cool  courage,  decision,  and 
kind  expostulation,  which  characterized  him  during 
this  perilous  experience,  he  might  have  escaped  the 
sad  fate  that  awaited  him. 

Their  north-western  course  was  resumed,  and  by 
the  eighth  of  Jul}^,  land  was  discovered  ;  it  was  cov- 
ered with  snow,  and  Hudson  named  it  "  Desire  Pro- 
voked." A  succession  of  capes,  bays,  and  islands, 
met  his  eyes,  as  he  entered  the  straits,  which  now 
bear  his  name.  Seeins;  the  broad  channel  before 
him,  he  believed  that,  at  last,  he  had  found  the  cov- 
eted passage  to  the  Indies.  "With  elated  spirits,  he 
sailed  through  the  straits,  till  he  approached  the  last 
visible  points  of  land  on  the  north  and  south,  one  of 
which  he  called  Cape  Digges  ;  the  other,  Cape  Wor- 
seuholme.  He  sent  several  of  his  men  to  ascend  the 
hills  of  Cape  Digges,  hoping  they  could  discern  the 
great  ocean,  he  was  sure  lay  beyond.  They  explored 
the  grassy  plains  that  intervened  between  the  coast 
and  the  hills,  but  the  farther  they  advanced,  the  more 
distant  seemed  the  deceptive  hills,  until,  wearied  with 
dragging  over  the  marshy  expanse,  and  overtaken  by 


236         DISCOYEEEES   AKD   PIONEEES    OF  AMEEICA. 

a  storm,  they  returned  towards  the  ship.  A  fog  had 
veiled  her  from  their  sight,  and,  for  some  time,  they 
wandered  along  the  shore  in  vain  search,  but  the 
firing  of  two  guns  on  board,  guided  them  safely  back. 
They  could  give  no  account  of  the  imagined  sea  ;  but 
a  discovery,  more  important  to  their  present  neces- 
sities, resulted  from  their  explorations,  namely,  the 
abundance  of  game,  found  upon  the  cape.  Hudson 
was  too  impatient  to  reach  the  Indies,  to  listen  to  the 
wishes  of  his  men,  to  store  the  ship  while  opportunity 
oflTered,  and  immediately  set  sail  for  the  broad,  inland 
sea,  that  opened  to  the  south. 

It  required  but  a  short  time  to  reach  the  extremity 
of  Hudson's  Bay.  When  Hudson  beheld  the  unwel- 
come sight  of  land  ahead,  his  heart  sank  within  him  ; 
yet,  unwilling  to  believe  himself  embayed,  he  fol- 
.lowed  the  deceitful  windings  of  the  shore,  always  be- 
lieving that,  beyond  the  next  jutting  point,  he  should 
find  the  wished-for  outlet.  After  days  of  wandering 
in  this  "  labyrinth  without  end,"  as  he  impatiently 
denominated  it,  he  was  obliged  to  acknowledge  his 
disappointment,  and  the  uselessness  of  further  efi*ort, 
as  the  season  was  now  too  far  advanced  for  exploration. 
Irritated  at  his  repeated  failures,  he  no  longer  bore 
with  his  former  patience,  the  complaints  and  contin- 
ued quarrels  of  his  wrangling  crew.  A  court  of  in- 
quiry was  appointed  to  try  the  most  turbulent,  which 
resulted  in  the  exposure  of  the  mutinous  plans  of 
Kobert  Juet,  the  mate,  and  his  associate,  the  boatswain, 
both  of  whom  had  induced  the  discontented  sailors  tc 


HENRY    HUDSON.  237 

keep  loaded  arms  by  them.  The  two  were  removed 
from  their  duties,  and  replaced  by  others  in  whom 
Hudson  reposed  confidence. 

The  first  of  JSTovember  had  overtaken  the  voyagers 
while  still  exploring  the  bay.  Successive  tempests 
had  driven  them  hither  and  thither ;  long,  cold  nights 
contribnted  to  their  suflfering ;  disappointment  and 
insubordination  distracted  their  minds,  and  only  the 
disheartening  prospect  of  wintering  in  the  bay  was 
before  them.  With  a  perseverance  amounting  to 
obstinacy,  Hudson  determined  to  remain  and  be  in 
readiness,  in  the  following  spring,  to  continue  his  pur- 
suit. He  ran  the  ship  into  a  small  bay,  and  sent  two 
of  the  sailors  in  search  of  a  suitable  j)osition  for 
a  winter's  shelter ;  when  found,  the  ship  was  hauled 
aground,  and  in  another  week,  was  firmly  fastened  in 
the  ice. 

"  It  is  diflicult,"  says  a  review  of  "  Life  at  Hudson's 
Bay,"  "  for  stay-at-home  people,  who,  at  the  first  ice- 
tree  upon  their  windows,  creep  into  the  chimney  cor- 
ner and  fleecy  hosiery,  to  imagine  such  a  tem^^erature 
fis  that  of  Hudson's  Bay,  where,  from  October  to 
April,  the  thermometer  seldom  rises  to  the  freezing 
point,  and  frequently  falls  from  30  deg.  to  40  deg., 
45  deg.,  and  even  49  deg.  below  zero,  of  Fahrenheit " 
—  a  temperature,  however,  which  a  continued  calm 
renders  endurable.  The  slightest  breath  of  wind 
penetrates  a  treble  suit  of  fur,  leather  and  blankets, 
as  readily  as  if  the  wearer  was  enveloped  in  gauze. 
Without  the  luxury  of  fur  or  a  superabundance  of 


238         DISCOVEKEKS   AKD    PIONEEES   LW   AMERICA. 

blankets,  with  nothing  beyond  their  ordinary  supply 
of  clothing,  and  with  scarcely  two  months'  provisions, 
the  forlorn  mariners  of  the  Discovery  were  exposed 
to  the  rigors  of  such  a  winter.  Whichever  way  they 
turned,  nothing  could  be  perceived  but  a  savage  des- 
ert, where  precipitous  rocks  rose  to  the  cold,  gray 
clouds,  or  yawned  into  deep  ravines  and  barren 
valleys  which  never  felt  the  warmth  of  the  sun,  and 
never  could  tempt  the  searching  footsteps  of  a  humao 
being,  to  their  unfathomable  depths  of  eternal  snow. 
There  was  no  alternative  but  to  remain  in  this 
dreary  and  unpeopled  region  for  more  than  six  months^ 
and  to  shelter  themselves  as  best  they  could.  Hudson 
commenced  at  once  to  put  the  men  on  short  allow- 
ance, and  offered  a  reward  for  ''  beast,  jBsh,  or  fowl," 
w^iich  they,  might  obtain.  During  the  first  threo 
months,  they  secured  a  fair  supply  of  white  partridges 
and  other  birds,  but  as  the  cold  became  extreme, 
game  gradually  disappeared,  and  the  half-starved 
sailors  went  wandering  over  the  bleak  hills  in  search 
of  anything  that  could  sustain  life  ;  not  a  frog,  nor 
a  clump  of  moss  was  refused  by  them.  In  these  al- 
most daily  excursions,  some  one  returned  with  his 
feet,  hands,  or  ears,  severely  frozen  ;  for,  though  a 
clear  and  cloudless  sky  was  above  them,  upon  ni*8t 
venturing  out,  it  was  no  surety  against  a  tempest  up- 
on their  return  ;  and  to  meet  the  keen,  piercing  blast, 
driving  clouds  of  snow  before  it,  was  an  intensity  of 
Buffering  of  which  they  carried  the  marks  for  many  a 
day. 


HENRY    HUDSON.  239 

Unable  to  find  comfortable  shelter  on  ship-board, 
for  the  whole  crew,  Hudson  directed  the  carpenter  to 
go  ashore  and  erect  a  suitable  house.  The  carpenter 
had,  himself,  proposed  doing  it  earlier  in  the  season, 
but  he  assured  his  captain  that  the  frost  and  snow 
now  rendered  the  work  impossible,  and  added,  in  an 
insolent  tone,  that  it  was  not  his  business,  he  being 
only  the  shij?  carpenter.  This  refusal  roused  Hud- 
son's long-suppressed  temper  ;  with  reckless  volubility 
he  heaped  abnsive  epithets  npon  the  offending  sailor, 
drove  him  from  the  cabin,  and  threatened  to  hang 
him.  Henry  Green  took  part  with  the  carpenter, 
which  still  further  excited  Hudson's  anger.  A  few 
hours  of  reflection  brought  regret  to  the  carpenter, 
and,  with  the  promptness  of  an  honorable,  generous 
nature,  he  returned  to  obedience,  although  its  require- 
ments were  at  variance  from  his  own  judgment,  and 
immediately  began  the  erection  of  the  house.  He 
remained,  to  the  end,  Hudson's  warmest  friend.  With 
Green,  this  quarrel  was  but  the  sure  betrayal  of  his 
baseness ;  presuming  upon  it,  he  disregarded  the  or- 
ders of  his  superior,  in  taking  a  gunning  excursion. 
During  his  absence,  Hudson  gave  to  another  sailor  a 
gown  which  he  had  promised  to  Green,  seeking  thus  to 
show  his  displeasure  towards  the  young  man,  who 
evinced  his  ingratitude  for  past  kindness,  and  at  a  time, 
too,  when  he  himself  was  harassed  with  cares  and 
disappointment.  Green  resented  the  transfer  of  the 
expected  gift,  when  Hudson  imprudently  and  harshly 
reproached  him,  telling  him  that  "  all  his  friends  would' 


240         DISCOVEEEKS     AKT)    TIONEEES    OF    AMEEICA. 

not  trust  liim  with  twenty  sliillings,  and,  therefore, 
why  should  he?  As  for  wages,  he  had  none,  nor 
should  have,  if  he  did  not  please  him  well."  These 
words  were  like  a  poisoned  arrow  in  the  heart  of  the 
half-reformed  vagrant.  All  the  fair  resolutions  he 
had  ever  entertained,  vanished,  and  from  that  mo- 
ment, he  yielded  to  the  guidance  of  his  evil  angel  — 
the  spirit  who  exultingly  reenters  the  heart  from 
which  he  has  been  partially  expelled,  "  and  taketh 
with  him  seven  other  spirits,  more  wicked  than 
himself." 

The  w^inter  passed  away,  giving  no  other  employ- 
ment to  the  men  than  an  exhausting  and  continued 
search  for  food  and  fuel.  Doubtless,  the  drift-wood 
that  had  floated  from  unknown  regions,  could  some- 
times be  hewn  from  its  frozen  bed  ;  for  voyagers  often 
623eak  of  this  available  fuel,  which  is  dashed  and 
ground  against  icy  rocks  till  it  sometimes  ignites  and 
sends  up  smoke  and  flame  in  the  midst  of  the  dreary 
sea.  The  very  extremities,  too,  to  which  the  sailors 
were  driven,  in  consuming  fat  substances,  such  as  are 
deemed  luxurious  among  the  Esquimaux,  yet  are  re- 
volting to  us,  sustained  them  more  effectually  against 
the  cold  than  if  provided  with  their  own  accustomed 
food.  Nothing  else  generates  an  equal  degree  of  heat 
in  the  animal  system  ;  the  provision  of  such  nutri- 
ment in  the  whales,  bears,  and  seals  of  rigorous  cli- 
mates, and  the  appetite  with  which  even  a  temporary 
inhabitant  craves  oily  food,  are  striking  illustrations 


HENKT   irUDSON.  241 

of  the  exercise  of  a  Divine  plan,  and  the  supervision 
of  a  wise  and  benevolent  God. 

The  only  human  being  seen  by  the  Discovery's 
crew  during  their  long  imprisonment  in  the  bay,  was 
a  savage,  whom  they  gladly  welcomed,  and  loaded 
with  presents.  He  left  them  well  pleased,  and,  in  a 
few  days,  returned  with  a  sledge  laden  with  deer  and 
beaver  skins.  Strangely  enough,  he  gave  back  all 
the  presents  he  had  received  ;  but  Hudson  insisted 
upon  his  retaining  them,  and  purchased  one  of  the 
deer-skins.  He  promised,  uj)on  his  departure,  to 
bring  some  of  his  people,  when  he  came  again  ;  he 
was  never  seen  afterwards,  and  the  hope  of  obtaining 
provisions  through  him  was  reluctantly  abandoned. 
As  the  ice  began  to  break  up,  a  small  supply  of  fish 
was  secured,  and  by  scanty  allowance,  they  managed 
to  exist  till  spring. 

By  the  middle  of  June,  the  ice  was  sufficiently 
broken  to  permit  the  egress  of  the  ship.  Before  sail- 
ing, Hudson  distributed  to  his  crew  the  last  of  the 
provisions,  about  a  pound  of  bread  to  each  man, 
"  and,  knowing  their  wretched  condition,  and  the  un- 
certainty of  what  might  befall  them,  he  also  gave  to 
every  man  a  bill  of  return,  which  might  be  showed 
at  home,  if  it  pleased  God  that  they  came  home,  and 
he  wept  when  he  gave  it  to  them."  Three  days  of 
sailing  launched  them  into  the  midst  of  far-extending 
ice-shoals,  and  there  they  were  forced  to  cast  anchor. 
To  add  to  Hudson's  perplexity,  some  of  the  men  had 
voraciously  eaten  all  their  bread,  and  were  clamoring 
K  16 


242         DISCOVEEERS   ANJy   PIONEERS    OF   AAIERICA. 

for  more.  Some  cheese  was  found  and  divided  among 
tliem.  Suspecting  that  certain  of  his  men  had  con- 
cealed provisions,  Hudson  declared  that  all  their 
chests  should  be  searched,  and  ordered  one  sailor  to 
bring  all  he  had  in  store.  He  obej^ed,  bringing  for- 
ward a  bag  containing  thirty  cakes.  The  occurrence 
gi-eatly  exasperated  the  most  discontented  of  the 
crew,  and  they  immediately  perfected  their  murder- 
ous plots. 

At  midnight,  they  assembled,  and  determined  upon 
the  destruction  of  their  commander,  and  all  who  were 
friendly  to  him.  One  Pricivet,  to  whom  they  unfold- 
ed their  plans,  entreated  them  to  desist  from  the  dark 
crime  they  were  about  to  commit;  he  reminded 
them  of  their  wives  and  children  at  home,  who  would 
shrink  from  them  as  murderers,  and  of  the  ignomini- 
ous end  they  would  bring  upon  themselves.  Green^ 
who,  of  all  others,  should  have  shielded  his  benefac- 
tor, told  the  conscientious  sailor  "  to  hold  his  peace," 
and  that  he  "  would  rather  be  hanged  at  home  than 
starved  abroad."  Finding  such  entreaties  useless, 
Pricket  urged  them  to  delay  the  execution  of  their 
design  for  three  —  for  two  days  —  for  one,  even  ;  but 
the  hardened  wretches  refused.  Indignant  at  their 
brutality,  he  reproached  them  with  blood-thirstiness, 
and  w^ith  revenge,  rather  than  a  regard  for  the  safety 
of  the  ship  and  of  themselves,  which  was  the  alleged 
reason ;  for,  the  only  offense  they  imputed  to  Hud- 
son, was  his  irresolute  conduct,  and  the  errors  which 
he  had  committed  from  the  beginning  of  the  voyage. 


HENKT    HUDSON.  248 

In  reply  to  these  reproaches,  Green  seized  a  Bible, 
and  swore  with  a  hypocrisy  equal  to  his  villainy, 
that  "  he  would  harm  no  man,  and  what  he  did  was 
for  the  good  of  the  voyage,  and  nothing  else."  The 
following  oath  was  then  taken  by  all,  at  Pricket's 
persuasion :  "  You  shall  swear  truth  to  God,  your 
Prince,  and  country  ;  you  shall  do  nothing  but  to 
the  glory  of  God,  and  the  good  of  the  action  in 
hand,  and  harm  no  man."  His  last  effort  to  restrain 
them  by  this  solemn  oath,  proved  useless. 

Meanwhile,  Green  went  to  Hudson,  and  pretended 
friendship  and  affection,  and  left  w^ith  him  an  impres- 
sion of  reformed  resolutions,  and  quieted  any  suspi- 
cions he  might  entertain  of  the  meditated  mutiny. 
But  a  few  hours  remained  to  perfect  their  plans. 
Daybreak  was  fixed  upon  as  the  time  of  execution, 
and  it  came  quickly  enough.  At  the  first  glimpse 
of  morning,  they  began  their  work.  As  Hudson 
came  up  from  his  cabin,  he  was  seized  and  bound. 
His  son  followed,  together  with  a  sailor  who  was 
Hudson's  avowed  friend.  The  ship's  boat  was  now 
hauled  alongside,  and  they  were  thrown  into  it,  to  be 
set  adrift,  and  abandoned  to  a  lingering  and  horrible 
death.  Had  the  work  of  these  murderers  ceased 
here,  it  might  be  attributed  to  the  untaught  and  un- 
checked impulses  of  a  revengeful  temper ;  but,  with 
a  cold-blooded  cruelty  that  scarcely  has  its  parallel 
among  civilized  beings,  they  now  called  up  those  of 
their  companions  who  w^ere  sick  or  lame  in  their 
berths,  and   placed   them,   also,  in   the  open   boat, 


244         DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

Henry  Green  was  foremost  in  the  Satanic  work,  roll 
ing  oath  after  oath  from  his  lips,  as  he  thrust  the  pale 
and  disabled  sailors  over  the  ship's  side.  Pricket 
once  more  interfered,  entreating  them  upon  his  knees, 
"  for  the  love  of  God,  to  remember  themselves,  and 
do  as  they  would  be  done  unto."  But  they  only 
laughed  him  to  scorn,  and  ordered  him  back  to  the 
cabin. 

Eight  men  now  occupied  the  little  shallop,  with 
nothing  to  shield  them  from  the  tempest,  nothing  to 
satisfy  their  hunger  and  thirst,  and  nothing  by  which 
to  guide  the  frail  boat  to  a  place  of  security.  The 
carpenter,  who  was  permitted  to  remain  on  ship- 
board, could  not  endure  the  cruel  sight,  and,  rather 
than  see  his  master  perish  thus,  he  declared  that  he 
would  cast  his  lot  with  him,  and  save  him  yet,  if  he 
could.  The  same  noble  spirit  that  could  acknowledge 
and  repair  an  error,  was  capable  of  the  generous  risk 
of  life  in  saving  that  of  his  commander.  The  touch- 
ing contrast  with  his  own  wickedness  must  have  smote 
the  heart  of  Green,  if  he  had  not  already  fully  yield- 
ed himself  to  the  power  of  the  Evil  One.  Being 
free  in  his  choice,  the  carpenter  supplied  himself  with 
tools,  a  gun,  some  powder  and  shot,  an  iron  pot,  a 
small  quantity  of  meal  and  other  provisions,  and  bid- 
ding farewell  to  Pricket,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  he 
leaped  into  the  shallop  which  was  yet  dragging  at 
the  stern. 

The  ship  was  now  loose  from  the  ice.  The  anchor 
was  weighed,  the  sails  hoisted,  and  a  fair  wind  floated 


HENRY   HUDSON.  245 

her  towards  the  strait  by  which  the  mariners  had  en- 
tered. When  she  had  reached  a  nearly  clear  sea,  the 
rope  holding  the  boat  was  cut,  and  Hudson,  with  his 
Bon,  his  brave  friend  and  the  six  feeble  sailors,  were 
left  to  the  mercies  of  an  Arctic  sea.  The  murderers 
turned,  unrelenting,  from  a  last  glimpse  of  their  vic- 
tims, who  were  helplessly  rocking  upon  the  waves, 
and  crouching  together  to  elude  the  keen,  sweeping 
blast,  that  bore  death  upon  its  wings.  The  ship,  un- 
der full  sail,  stood  for  the  capes,  skimming  as  swiftly 
and  safely  along  as  if  she  bore  the  good  and  the  just. 
But  God  left  the  offenders  to  fill  up  the  measure  of 
their  iniquity.  They  were  fast  gliding  around  in  the 
converging  circles  of  an  eternal  maelstrom,  and,  in- 
toxicated with  their  abandoned  villainy,  did  not  per- 
ceive the  abyss  into  which  they  were  soon  to  plunge. 
Having  a  long  voyage  before  them,  and  being  al- 
most destitute  of  provisions,  it  was  necessary  to  land 
at  the  capes,  and  obtain  whatever  could  be  found. 
As  soon  as  land  was  discovered,  therefore,  a  boat, 
manned  with  five  men,  was  sent  ashore.  Savages 
crowded  to  the  beach,  offering  all  the  provision  the 
sailors  could  desire,  but  in  an  unguarded  moment,  sud- 
denly attacked  them.  The  agility  of  the  sailors  in 
springing  to  the  boat,  alone  saved  them  from  im- 
mediate death.  As  it  was,  three  were  mortallv 
wounded,  and  unable  to  assist  in  rowing  the  boat  be- 
yond the  reach  of  a  shower  of  arrows  that  darted 
after  them.  Green  was  struck,  and  instantly  killed, 
while  an  awful  oath  was  upon  his  lips.     The  rest 


246        DISCOVERERS    AND    PI0XEER3    OF    AMERICA. 

reached  the  ship  with  difficulty.  Two  others  of  the 
number,  who  were  most  clamorous  for  the  desertion 
of  their  commander  and  comrades,  expired  the  same 
day  from  the  effects  of  poisoned  arrows,  cursing  and 
raving  till  silenced  by  the  fearful  hand  of  Death. 
The  three  were  committed  to  the  same  cold  grave 
they  had  prepared  for  Hudson  and  their  wronged 
shipmates ;  and  a  fourth,  equally  wretched  in  his 
end,  followed  them  to  their  icy  bed,  two  days  after. 
The  remainder  of  the  crew  succeeded  in  gaining 
the  Atlantic,  and  shaped  their  course  for  Ireland. 
For  weeks,  they  were  tempest-tossed,  their  ship  disa- 
bled by  storms,  and  themselves  reduced  to  feeble 
skeletons  by  starvation.  The  skins  of  their  last  sup- 
ply of  fowl,  were  voraciously  devoured,  and  even  the 
bones,  fried  in  tallow,  were  every  one  consumed. 
The  candles  were  now  divided  among  them — one 
pound  to  each  man,  and,  with  only  this  morsel  to  sus- 
tain them,  they  had  yet  to  count  long  miles,  with 
only  a  crazy  ship  to  creep  over  the  surging  ocean. 
At  this  crisis,  Juet,  who  had  been  a  close  companion 
in  crime  with  Green,  but  who  was  the  best  pilot  re- 
maining, died  in  the  agonies  of  remorse  and  starva- 
tion. His  cries  w^ent  up  dolefully  from  the  swaying 
ship.  1^0  one  could  give  relief.  Each  man,  too 
weak  to  stand,  sat  silently  at  his  post,  gazing  at  the 
others'  pale,  stony  countenances.  They  cared  not 
where  the  vessel  went,  and  they  would  sit  helplessly 
"  and  see  the  foresail  or  mainsail  fly  up  to  the  tops. 


HENRY    HCDSOM. 


24:7 


the  sheets  being  either  flown   or  broken,  and  would 
not  lielp  it  tlieniselves,  nor  call  to  others  for  help." 

While  thej  thus  silently  waited  the  coming  of 
death,  the  joyful  cry  of  "A  sail!  a  sail!"  roused 
their  remaining  strength.  They  watched  its  nearer 
approach  with  intense  and  painful  eagerness,  till  their 
rescue  was  sure.  It  proved  to  be  a  fishing  bark  off 
the  coast  of  Ireland,  whose  crew  had  descried  the 
tattered  sails  of  the  ship,  and  hastened  to  the  relief 
of  the  forlorn  mariners.  They  were  taken  into  a  har- 
bor, kindly  provided  for  by  the  commander  of  the 
fishing  bark,  and  finally  succeeded  in  reaching 
London. 

Their  arrival  in  England,  and  the  history  of  the 
crimes  and  suftering  of  the  voyage,  produced  a  gen- 
eral feeling  of  commiseration  and  sorrow.  The  fate 
of  one  of  England's  most  daring  navigators,  and  the 
sudden  closing  of  a  career  that  had  reflected  honor 
upon  his  country,  as  a  discoverer,  excited  so  deep  an 
interest  that  two  ships  were  sent  in  search  of  him  the 
following  year.  They  returned,  however,  in  a  few 
months,  unsuccessful. 

Hudson  was  probably  a  self-made  man,  and  as 
6uch,  deserves  the  high  encomiums  which  history  haa 
bestowed.  He  was  a  fearless  navigator  and  a  man 
of  generous  sympathies,  but  he  possessed  neither  the 
self-reliance  and  firmness  requisite  to  the  commander 
of  a  difficult  enterprise  and  a  turbulent  crew,  nor  the 
noble  virtues  which  crown  the  memory  of  the  truly 
great.     His  life-long,  brave  battle  with  Arctic  hard- 


248         DISCOVERERS   AND   PIONEERS   OF   AMER*ICA. 

ships  and  lonely  perils,  commands  a  lasting  admira- 
tion ;  and  his  unknown,  but  certainly  distressing, 
fate,  awakens  the  liveliest  sympathy.  Whether  his 
bones  rest  in  the  bay  that  bears  his  name,  or  his  dust 
has  been  scattered  by  fierce  winds  over  the  cold, 
northern  wilderness,  his  name  will  live  as  long  as  that 
vast  inland  sea  remains,  and  as  perpetually  as  the 
Hudson  River  rolls  through  its  mountain  gates,  and 
washes  a  city  destined  soon  to  be  the  mart  of  the 
world. 


VI. 


JOHN  SMITH. 

The  hero  of  a  Frencli  novel,  the  Aladdin  of  Arabi- 
an romance,  or  the  adventures  of  a  gipsey,  could  not 
exceed,  in  variety  of  incident,  in  strange  escapes,  or 
in  eccentric  feats,  the  remarkable  life  of  this  king 
of  all  John  Smiths  —  the  founder  of  Virginia. 

There  is  little  of  moral  greatness  in  his  character. 
He  was  comparatively  free  from  vicious  habits  ;  he 
was  sagacious,  energetic,  and  bold,  but  he  was  too 
erratic  and  fickle  in  his  tastes,  to  harbor  any  fixed 
purpose.  The  same  motive  that  impelled  his  wan- 
derings from  London  to  Constantinople,  from  Paris 
to  Alexandria,  sent  him  to  uncivilized  America  —  not 
like  the  early  discoverers,  to  extend  the  known  limits 
of  the  earth,  and  add  to  the  stores  of  science,  not 
like  the  northern  settlers,  to  establish  an  Indian  mis- 
sion, or  to  seek  an  asylum  of  liberty  —  but  simply  to 
gratify  the  love  of  a  wild,  roving  life.  Yet  his  name 
is  a  star  in  the  constellation  of  his  period  —  a  star, 
brilliant  to  the  chance-gazer,  but  flickering  to  the 
eye  of  one  who  seeks  a  pure  and  steady  light  of  char 
^oter. 

K* 


250         DISCOVEEEES    AND   PIONEEES   OF   AMERICA. 

Captain  Smitli  was  born  in  1579,  in  Willoiighby, 
England.  "While  yet  young,  he  was  left  an  orphan, 
with  a  small  j^roperty,  in  the  care  of  guardians,  who 
abused  the  trust.  His  propensity  to  wander  was  first 
exhibited  at  school,  where  he  sold  his  books  and 
satchel,  and,  with  the  proceeds,  was  about  stealing 
away  to  sea.  when  he  was  deterred  by  the  death  of 
his  father.  His  education  was  thenceforward  neg- 
lected, and  he  was  left  to  gain  his  knowledge  of  men 
and  the  world  through  his  novel  experience  and  acute 
observation.  His  guardian  relatives  accorded  him  a 
vagabond  life,  until  he  was  old  enough  to  entei  apon 
an  apprenticeship  with  a  merchant  of  Lynn.  The 
common-place  duties,  and  the  stability  and  diligence 
required  of  him,  were  at  war  w^ith  his  inclinations, 
so  that,  without  an  adieu,  he  left  his  employer,  and 
be2:an  a  reckless  search  after  romantic  adventure. 

Longing  to  visit  foreign  countries,  he  entered  the 
service  of  the  sons  of  Lord  Willoughby,  who  were 
about  to  take  the  tour  of  the  continent.  Soon  after 
their  arrival  in  France,  they  dismissed  him,  giving  him 
sufficient  means  to  return  to  England.  But  the  pic- 
turesque dresses  of  the  peasants,  their  jesting  and 
chattering,  the  charming  groves  and  vineyards  of 
France,  and,  above  all,  the  gayety  of  Paris,  were  too 
strong  attractions  to  the  youthful  wanderer,  for  hhn 
to  return  to  staid  old  England,  and  to  the  begrudged 
bounty  of  his  relatives.  He  made  his  way  alone  to 
Paris,  and  there  met  a  Scottish  gentleman,  who  im- 
mediately interested   himself  in  the  young  traveler. 


JOHN  6:xnTn.  25  i 

Smitli  was,  at  this  time,  fifteen  years  of  age.  That 
his  countenance  was  extremely  pleasing,  his  manner 
spirited  and  graceful,  his  wit  ready  and  promising, 
may  be  inferred  from  the  advice  given  him  by  his 
Highland  friend,  which  was,  to  become  a  courtier  in 
the  court  of  King  James  —  the  would-be  Solomon. 
Nothing  seemed  easier,  or  more  desirable,  to  the 
partial  Scotchman.  "With  the  whimsical  ardor  of  an 
enthusiast,  he  replenished  the  purse  of  his  new-found 
protege^  wrote  letters  of  introduction  to  his  friends  in 
Scotland,  and,  with  hearty  wishes  for  the  young  ad- 
venturer's success,  saw  him  safely  out  of  Paris.  But 
with  the  benefactor,  disappeared  all  Smith's  sincere 
intentions  to  find  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  Scottish 
monarch.  Arrived  at  Rouen,  new  friends  influenced 
him,  and  the  sight  of  lively  preparations  for  war  in- 
duced him  to  try  a  soldier's  life.  He  enlisted  as  a 
private,  and,  in  a  few  days,  was  on  his  way  to  Havre 
de  Grace. 

Four  years  in  the  wars  of  the  ISTetherlands, 
though  affording  his  first  military  lessons,  contribu- 
ted nothing  to  his  needed  stability.  He  found  him- 
self as  penniless  and  unknown  as  ever;  but,  never  at 
a  loss  for  an  expedient,  lie  bethought  himself  of  the 
letters  of  his  Scotch  patron,  and  immediately  set  out 
for  the  court  of  James.  The  vessel  in  which  he  sailed 
was  wrecked  upon  the  Holy  Isle  of  l^orthumberland, 
and  he  narrowly  escaped  drowning,  only  to  encoun- 
ter an  equally  dangerous  illness.  After  several  weeks 
of  confinement,  he  succeeded  in  reaching  Scotland 


252  DISOOVEKERS   AJSTD   PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA. 

and  presented  the  letters,  which  were  expected  to 
launch  him  at  once  upon  a  promising  career.  In 
this  he  was  disappointed.  He  was  hospitably  and 
kindly  received,  but  his  good  fortune  extended  no 
further.  Too  impatient  to  endure  delay,  and  too  in- 
dependent for  a  sycophant,  he  abandoned  the  notion 
of  becoming  a  courtier,  bade  adieu  to  his  entertainers, 
and  returned  to  England,  and  to  his  old  home  at 
Willoughby. 

Handsome,  graceful,  soldierl}^  in  his  carriage,  lively 
and  generous,  abounding  in  foreign  accomplishments, 
he  was  the  Adonis  of  the  village  maidens,  the  wonder 
and  dread  of  the  awkward  beaux,  and  the  pride  of 
the  cousins  who  had  turned  him  off,  a  vagabond  boy 
The  first  flush  of  pleasure  at  his  flattering  reception 
having  passed,  however,  he  became  wearied  of  the 
profuse  attentions  of  his  friends,  and  quite  disgusted 
with  the  "humdrum  quiet  of  a  country  town."  Pro- 
fessing himself  tired  of  the  world,  he  suddenly  deter- 
mined to  turn  hermit  —  perhaps  with  the  hope  of  ac- 
quiring the  notoriety  he  had  thus  far  failed  to  secure 
beyond  his  immediate  circle.  He  concealed  himself, 
as  he  says,  "in  woodie  pasture,  environed  with  many 
hundred  acres  of  other  woods,"  and  there,  "  by  a  faire 
brooke,  he  built  himself  a  pavilion  of  boughs,  where 
only  in  his  clothes  he  lay."  In  this  retreat,  he 
amused  himself  like  a  knight-errant,  with  "  a  good 
horse,  lance  and  ring."  Two  books,  upon  the  art  of 
war,  were  his  only  companions  ;  his  food  was  chiefly 
the  prohibited  game  of  the  forest.     Of  course,  wonder 


JOHN    SMITH.  253 

fill  stories  were  soon  afloat  among  the  peasantry,  and 
it  was  not  long  before  the  attention  of  the  neighbor- 
ing nobility  was  directed  to  the  eccentric  hermit.  An 
Italian  gentleman,  employed  by  the  Earl  of  Lincoln, 
was  deputed  to  visit  the  "pavilion,"  and  entice  the 
recluse  knight  from  his  solitude,  in  which  attempt  he 
succeeded,  after  some  weeks  of  occasional  compan- 
ionship. 

Smith,  soon  afterwards,  went  to  London.  lie  was 
there  imposed  upon  by  four  French  rogues,  who,  by 
fair  promises,  induced  him  to  accompany  them  to 
France.  They  embarked  in  a  small  vessel,  the  cap- 
tain of  which  was  probably  a  smuggler.  When  arrived 
at  St.  Yalery,  in  Picardy,  the  four  thieves  were  clan- 
destinely sent  ashore  at  midnight,  with  the  money 
and  clothes  of  the  deceived  youth.  Upon  the  discov- 
ery of  the  robbery,  the  passengers  expressed  their 
sympathy,  and  one  of  them  took  him  under  his  own 
escort,  2^rovided  him  with  means,  and,  when  landed, 
introduced  him  to  his  friends,  who  received  Smith 
with  extraordinary  kindness  and  hospitality.  He 
finally  found  himself  luxuriating  at  the  jmncely  seats 
of  noblemen,  but  "  such  pleasant  pleasures  suited  lit- 
tle with  poore  estate  and  restless  spirit,  that  never 
could  finde  content  to  receive  such  noble  favours  as 
he  could  neither  deserve  nor  requite ;  "  he  left  his 
generous  friends,  and  roamed  hither  and  thither,  re- 
duced to  extreme  poverty.  In  his  wanderings,  he 
met,  in  a  wood,  one  of  the  French  gallants,  who  had 
deceived  him.     Each,  at  the  recognition,  bared  hia 


25  i        DISCOVERERS   AND   PIONEERS   OF   AMERICA. 

weapon,  without  words.  Smith  was  victorious  ;  and, 
in  presence  of  people  from  a  neighboring  tower, 
obliged  the  vanquished  man  to  confess  his  guilt. 

His  acquaintance  with  the  Earl  of  Ployer,  soon 
after,  and  the  friendship  and  interest  of  that  noble- 
man, gave  a  new  direction  to  Smith's  perverted  ener- 
gy and  impulse.  With  the  design  of  joining  the 
armies  of  Rodolph,  of  Germany,  then  at  war  agamst 
the  Turks  and  their  leader,  the  third  Mahomet,  he 
left  the  earl,  who  supplied  him  with  means  to  embark 
at  Marseilles,  for  Italy.  All  on  board  the  vessel  were 
Catholics,  with  the  exception  of  Smith.  The  storms 
and  perils  of  the  voyage  alarmed  and  excited  them. 
Finding  their  Ave  Marias  and  vows  availed  nothing, 
they  turned  their  jealous  eyes  upon  the  heretic,  deci- 
ded that  he  was  the  cause  of  their  distress,  and,  like 
the  chiefs  of  heathen  Africa,  or  the  simple  Hindoo, 
determined  to  sacrifice  him  to  appease  the  anger  of 
their  gods.  He  was,  accordingly,  thrown  into  the 
sea.  Being  an  able  swimmer,  and  with  nothing  of  fear 
in  his  nature,  he  calmly  made  his  way  among  the  roll- 
ing billows,  to  the  isle  of  St.  Mary,  not  far  distant,  and 
off  the  coast  of  Savoy.  Kot  a  little  exhausted  by  his 
battle  with  the  waves,  and  dripping  with  his  unwel- 
come bath,  he  obtained  footing  upon  the  lonely 
island,  and  found  himself  the  penniless  monarch  of 
its  barren  limits,  with  the  prospect  of  a  Crusoe's  life. 

He  was  quite  capable  of  realizing  such  a  life,  but 
he  had  scarcely  tested  its  pleasure,  when  a  ship  sought 
shelter  there  from  a  storm.     The  captain  proved  to 


JOHN  SMITH.  255 

be  a  friend  of  the  Earl  of  Plojer,  and  learning  that 
nobleman's  kindness  to  Smith,  treated  the  picked-iip 
outcast   with   studied   generosity.      The    vessel   was 
bound  to  Alexandria,  in  Egypt,  and  thither  Smith 
went,  reckless   as   to  what  quarter  of  the  globe  he 
journeyed,  so  that  his  preeminent  desire  to  see  the 
Avorld,   would   be   gratified.      Fortune   played   with 
him,   like    the   whirlwind   with   a   leaf,   friskins;    it 
here  and  there,  drifting  it  into  fair  fields,  turning  a 
pirouette  with  it  in  the  sand,  or  tossi-ng  it  upon  the 
waves  only  to  catch  it  up  again.     Smith  yielded  to 
circumstances ;  he  was  as  contented  on  a  piratical 
cruise,  as  in  the  family  circles  of  noblemen  —  as  hap- 
py in  an  active  campaign,  as  in  a  hermit's  cell.     He 
paid  little  heed  to  conscience;  as  to  moral  principle,  he 
had  none  ;  for  when  he  found  that  Captain  La  Roche's 
intention  was  to  capture  a  Yenetian  merchant-ship,  in 
the  Adriatic,  for  the  spoil,  he  ofiTered  no  objection,  but 
engaged,  with  a  good  will,  in  the  undertaking,  fought 
obstinately,    and   shared   the    booty   with   the   rest. 
Silks,   velvets,  gold  tissue  and  jewels,  were  among 
the   prizes.     "Five   hundred  sequins  and  a  box  of 
jewels  "  were  awarded  to  Smith;  with  these  ill-gotten 
riches,  he  parted  from  Captain  La  Eoche,  and  set  out 
upon  a  tour  of  Italy. 

From  Leghorn,  to  the  ruins  and  palaces  of  Eome, 
where  it  was  "  his  chance  to  see  Pope  Clement,  the 
Eighth,  with  many  cardinals,  creepe  up  the  holy 
stairs,"  and  from  Rome  to  the  bustling  Neapolitans, 
'Smith  wandered — as  much  at  home  among  the  crowds 


250  DISCOVEREUS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AIVIERICA. 

of  lazaroni  and  mountebanks,  beggars  and  bandits, 
at  Naples,  as  in  the  companionship  of  young  men  of 
rank,  in  the  papal  city.  When  at  Yenice,  the  city 
of  islands  and  of  gondoliers,  Smith  found  his  sequins 
nearly  exhausted.  Satiated  with  the  beauty  and 
novelty  of  Italy,  he  remembered  for  what  he  had  left 
France,  and,  with  his  usual  comet-like  movements, 
set  out  foi  Hagusa.  The  broken  coast  of  Dalmatia 
and  Albania,  where  olives,  figs,  and  Corinthian  grapes 
were  ripening  in  the  sun,  was  quickly  parsed.  Ba- 
gusa  was  soon  left  behind,  and  "poor  Slavonia" 
crossed  by  the  indefatigable  traveler.  'Now  he  wan- 
dered over  green  districts,  which  were  every  day  re- 
plenished with  fresh  flowers,  or  where  abundant  har- 
vests rose  under  the  vivifying  influence  of  warm  rains 
and  a  soft,  Italian  climate  —  and  again  he  toiled  over 
rocky  hills,  exposed  to  the  cold  blasts  of  the  Bora. 
At  last  he  reached  Gratz,  in  Styria,  the  residence  of 
Ferdinand,  Archduke  of  Austria.  He  was  not  long  in 
search  of  friends.  An  Englishman  and  an  Irish  Jesuit, 
interested  themselves  in  him,  and  brought  him  to  the 
notice  of  several  distinguished  noblemen  of  the  army. 
He  became  one  of  the  staff  of  the  Earl  of  Meldritch. 
The  journeys  of  the  Zincali  could  scarcely  be  more 
erratic  than  those  of  Smith,  from  the  time  he  left 
France  till  he  accomplished  his  object  of  joining  the 
armies  of  Rodolph. 

It  is  impossible,  in  the  limits  of  these  pages,  to  fol- 
low him  in  the  various  campaigns  against  the  Turks. 
His  ingenuity  in  devising  signals  and  destructive  fire- 


JOHN   SMITH.  257 

works,  not  less  than  his  valor,  occasioned  his  promo- 
tion to  the  command  of  a  company  of  horse.  AVhile 
the  army  of  the  Earl  of  Meldritch,  and  the  forces  of 
Prince  Moyses,  were  before  the  city  of  Kegall,  pre- 
paring to  besiege  it,  the  Turks,  fully  prepared  for  the 
exigency,  continually  sent  messages  of  derision,  and 
finally,  a  challenge  to  single  combat,  from  Lord  Tur- 
bishaw.  The  Turkish  ladies  must  have  some  amuse- 
ment, before  the  Christians  were  routed,  said  the 
boastful  Mohammedans.  The  challenge  was  accepted, 
and  the  enthusiasm  was  so  great  in  the  Christian  ar- 
my, to  engage  in  the  revival  of  ancient  chivalry,  that 
lots  were  cast  for  the  honor.  Captain  Smith  was  the 
successful  competitor. 

Upon  the  appointed  day,  the  walls  of  Eegall  were 
crowded  with  the  beauties  of  the  harem,  and  the  of- 
ficers of  the  Turkish  legions.  The  army  of  the  Chris- 
tians was  drawn  up  in  battle  array,  on  the  plain,  to 
witness  the  contest.  Lord  Turbishaw  presented  him- 
self, in  a  gorgeous,  jeweled  dress,  with  silvered  and 
gilded  wings.  Smith  advanced,  upon  a  spirited,  well- 
trained  steed,  clad  in  armor,  and,  no  doubt,  richly 
plumed.  A  flourish  of  trumpets  announced  the  on- 
set ;  the  combatants  sprang  towards  each  other,  and, 
in  an  instant.  Lord  Turbishaw  was  stretched  dead  upon 
the  earth.  Smith  leaped  from  his  saddle,  unloosed 
the  helmet  of  the  Turk,  cut  off  his  head,  presented  it, 
amidst  applause,  to  Prince  Moyses,  and  retired  in 
triumph  to  his  own  ranks. 

The  Turks  were  incensed  at  the  result,  and  a  friend 

17 


258         DISCO  V^ERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OP    AMERICA, 

of  the  vanqiiislied,  Grualgo,  a  powerful  warrior,  sent 
a  second  challenge.  It  was  promptly  accepted,  and 
again  Smith  appeared  in  the  Held,  in  presence  of  the 
two  armies,  fought,  conquered,  and  added  the  head 
of  Grualgo  to  his  trophies.  The  Turks  decided  that 
the  ladies  had  enjoyed  enough  of  this  brutal  amuse- 
ment, and  desisted  ;  but  a  challenge  came  now  from 
the  Christian  camp,  and  they  felt  bound,  by  the  laws 
of  chivalry,  to  accept  it.  Bonny  Mulgro  was  the 
champion.  His  head  against  those  of  the  two  already 
slain,  together  with  Smith's,  was  the  stake.  Bonny 
shared  the  fate  of  the  others,  and  Smith  retuined  a 
third  time  victorious.  A  splendid  pageant,  in  his 
honor,  a  richly-furnished  charger,  a  jewel-studded 
cimetar,  a  costly  belt,  and  a  patent  of  nobility,  con- 
ferred by  the  Prince  of  Transylvania,  were  the  re- 
wards of  his  bold  feats.  His  coat  of  arms  consisted 
of  three  Turks'  heads  upon  a  shield,  with  the  motto, 
"  Yincere est  vivere^^ —  "  to  conquer  is  to  live." 

'Not  long  after  this.  Smith  was  left  among  the  slain, 
upon  the  field  of  battle.  His  rich  armor  readily  at- 
tracted attention,  and,  as  he  gave  signs  of  life,  he  was 
taken  prisoner  by  his  conquerors,  and  was  sold  in  the 
slave  market  of  Axiopolis,  to  Bashaw  Bogall,  who 
sent  him  in  chains,  as  a  present,  to  one  of  the  beau- 
ties of  his  harem.  Charatza  Tragabigzanda  quickly 
became  interested  in  her  handsome  and  gallant  slave ; 
as  she  was  able  to  converse  in  Italian,  she  wliiled 
away  many  an  hour,  in  conversation  with  the  accom- 
plished Englisman.     Her  fondness  of  him  was  per 


J;  Mix    i^AiiTIl. 


250 


ceived  by  li<^'i*  niotlier.  Feai-i)i<i;  the  consequences, 
Charatza  sent  him  away,  with  a  letter,  imploring  for 
him  the  kindness  of  her  brother,  Timour  Bashaw, 
whose  residence  was  in  Tartary.  Smith's  new  mas- 
ter proved  fierce  and  tyrannical.  A  short  duration 
of  vilest  slavery  exhausted  his  patience.  He  killed 
bis  Tartar  lord,  seized  his  robes  and  liis  fine  char- 
ger, fled  across  the  desert,  cleared  the  territories  of 
the  Musselmen,  and  safely  reached  a  Eussian  garri- 
son, upon  the  river  Don. 

Here  the  ''Good  Lady  Callamanta"  relieves  his 
poverty,  and  the  governor  strikes  off  his  irons,  and 
gives  him  letters  of  introduction,  and  a  convoy,  for 
his  protection,  to  Transylvania.  In  this  district  he 
meets  with  his  old  generals  and  companions,  who 
welcome  him,  heap  honors  upon  him,  and  bestow  fif- 
teen hundred  ducats  of  gold,  to  repair  his  losses. 
With  this  sudden  good  fortune,  he  determines  to  re- 
iurn  to  England ;  but  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  be 
satisfied  with  a  direct  route,  and,  accordingly,  his 
way  to  London  leads  him  through  the  cities  of  Ger- 
many, among  the  singing  Tyrolese,  over  the  Alps, 
through  vine-clad  France,  to  the  wild  passes  of  the 
Pyrenees,  the  bandit  forests,  and  old  inquisitorial 
cities  of  Spain.  The  novelty  of  these  exhausted,  he 
fancies  he  may  find  new  adventures  in  distant  Africa. 
Away  he  sails  to  the  Barbary  States,  examines  the 
monuments  of  Morocco,  notes  the  characteristics  of 
the  country  and  people,  and  turns  away  indignant  at 
their  barbarism.     The  French  captain  of  a  man-of- 


260         DISCOVEEEKS   AND   PIONEEES   OF    AMEEICA. 

war  here  meets,  and  feels  an  extravagant  admiration 
for  Smith,  takes  him  on  board  his  vessel,  and  sets  out 
upon  one  of  the  common  piratical  cruises  of  those 
times. 

Smith  did  not  return  to  England  till  the  year  1604. 
He  was  yet  but  twenty-five,  though  his  life,  thus  far, 
had  equaled  in  eventfulness  the  ordinary  experience 
of  an  hundred  years.  With  his  roving  habits,  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  remain  unoccupied  in  England. 
The  colonization  of  America  was,  at  this  time,  a  sub- 
ject of  general  interest.  Smith  had  seen  enough  of 
Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa ;  the  new  continent  was  an 
attractive  field,  and  ofi'ered  the  opportunity  of  more 
fearless  adventure  than  he  had  already  tested.  He  was 
easily  enlisted  in  a  project  of  renewing  the  unfortunate 
efi'orts  of  Raleigh.  A  patent  was  obtained  from 
James  I.  by  Gosnold,  "Wingfield,  Hunt  and  others, 
for  the  settlement  of  Virginia,  and  with  this  company, 
Smith  .sailed  for  America,  December  19th,  1606. 
The  colonists  numbered  one  hundied  and  five  —  for- 
ty-eight of  them  being  gentlemen,  the  rest  laborers 
and  mechanics.  Many  were  atheists  ;  few  were  mor- 
ally strong ;  none  w^ere  possessed  of  the  energy  or 
decision  of  the  soldierly  Smith.  Discontent,  suspi- 
cion, and  jealousy,  prevailed  throughout  the  voyage. 
Smith  was  seized,  upon  an  absurd  charge  of  treason, 
and  kept  in  close  confinement  till  they  arrived  in  the 
Bay  of  Chesapeake.  There,  the  opening  of  the  strong 
box,  in  which  the  whimsical  king  had  ordered  the 
names  of  the  council   to  be   concealed,  proclaimed 


JOHN    SMITH.  261 

Smith  a  member,  but  he  was  excluded  till  after  a 
trial.  He  submitted  patiently  to  all  the  indignities 
offered  him,  fully  conscious  of  his  superiority  over  his 
persecutors,  and  the  necessity  of  his  able  services  to 
the  colony. 

The  site  of  Jamestown  was  selected.  Trees  were 
felled,  a  fort  commenced,  rude  cabins  erected,  gardens 
laid  out,  and  all  the  hardy  occupations  of  an  early 
settlement  fairly  in  progress.  It  was  now  necessary  for 
some  one  to  explore  the  river  upon  whose  banks  they 
had  alighted,  to  acquaint  themselves  with  the  inten- 
tions of  the  neighboring  Indians,  and  to  obtain  a  sup- 
ply of  provisions.  There  were  few  among  the  colo- 
nists sufficiently  courageous  for  the  undertaking,  and, 
as  Smith  expected,  he  was  designated,  with  a  few 
others,  to  accompany  Captain  Newport.  His  con- 
duct throughout  thirteen  weeks  of  confinement,  and 
the  six  subsequent  weeks  of  his  cheerful  assistance  to 
the  colony,  won  the  confidence  and  esteem  of  the 
greater  part  of  his  enemies.  Upon  his  return  from 
the  expedition,  a  trial  was  granted  him,  in  which  he 
clearly  proved  himself  innocent  of  the  malicious 
charges  of  President  Wingfield, —  a  weak,  jealous- 
minded  man,  from  whose  inefficiency  half  the  trou- 
bles of  the  colony  proceeded. 

Smith  was  finally  placed  at  the  head  of  affairs.  All 
had  confidence  in  his  judgment  and  valor.  Labor  was 
briskly  executed  under  his  direction,  discontent  kept 
at  bay  while  he  shared  the  fatigue  of  the  settlers,  and 
famine  was  averted,  by  his  prompt  dispatches  to  the 


262         DISCOVERERS   AND   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

Indians.  Often,  in  his  boatings  up  tlie  river,  or  in  his 
forest  ramblings,  in  quest  of  the  Indian  granaries,  he 
found  himself  surrounded  by  savage  bands,  a  mark 
for  tlieir  merciless  arrows.  His  fearlessness,  on  all  oc- 
casions, made  him  prominent  among  his  companions, 
and  the  dusky  chieftains  soon  learned  to  dread  his 
name.  Upon  his  return  to  the  colony,  he  found  it 
the  scene  of  faction  and  conspiracy.  His  prompt 
measures  never  failed  to  quell  the  disturbance,  and  his 
fierce  determination  of  countenance  and  manner,  se- 
cured 23eace  so  long  as  he  remained,  with  ruling  eye 
and  voice,  in  the  midst  of  the  malcontents.  Thus  the 
summer  and  the  autumn  of  the  first  year  passed. 

The  winter  of  1607  was  remarkably  cold.  But  the 
severity  of  the  weather  did  not  deter  Smith  from  an 
enterprise,  to  which  the  reproaches  and  complaints  of 
his  unruly  colonists,  seem  to  have  urged  him.  They 
desired  him  to  explore  the  Chickahominy  to  its 
sources,  believing  it  would  conduct  them  to  ihe  South 
Sea — the  hoped-for  achievement  of  the  ambitious 
navigators  of  the  day.  Smith  set  out  with  a  few  men, 
and  proceeded  up  the  river  as  far  as  it  was  navigable 
for  his  barge.  He  then  obtained  an  Indian  canoe, 
with  the  services  of  two  savages,  and,  selecting  two 
of  his  bravest  men,  proceeded  up  the  stream,  unsus- 
picious, or  regardless  of  danger,  till  the  way  was 
impeded  by  fallen  trees  and  overhanging  boughs. 
Wishing  to  see  the  nature  of  the  country,  and  to  dis- 
cover the  width  of  the  stream  at  a  higher  point,  he 
left  the  two  Englishmen  and  one  Indian  in  the  canoe, 


JOHN    SMITH.  263 

and,  with  his  single  guide,  phmged  into  the  forest. 
The  dead  leaves  rustled  under  their  tread,  and  the 
wind  swept  through  the  bare  trees,  with  the  sound  of 
a  gale  in  the  rigging  of  a  thousand  ships,  or  as  if  the 
boughs  were  hung  with  the  rattling  bones  of  skele- 
tons. Suddenly  a  loud  war-whoop  swelled  above  all 
other  sounds.  Smith  knew  its  import  too  well,  though 
not  a  human  being  was  in  sight,  except  his  dusky 
guide.  Sure  that  he  was  betrayed,  he  seized  the  In- 
dian and  bound  him  fast  to  his  own  arm.  An  arrow 
whizzed  through  the  air,  and  struck  the  hero  captain, 
and  now  he  perceived  two  savages  peering  at  him 
with  aimed  shafts.  In  an  instant,  his  Indian,  used  as 
a  buckler,  was  interposed,  his  pistol  discharged,  and 
himself  retreating  backwards  in  the  direction  of  his 
canoe,  always  keeping  his  captive  an  unwilling  shield 
between  himself  dnd  the  gathering  enemy.  The  war- 
cry  echoed  again  through  the  woods,  and  soon  a  hun- 
dred foes  flitted  between  the  gray  trunks,  afraid  to 
encounter  his  weapon,  and  unwilling  to  transfix  his 
effective  shield  with  arrows.  Smith  refused  to  yield, 
and  still  retreated.  The  warriors  followed  him,  sure 
of  their  brave  victim.  Busy  in  his  defense,  he  did 
not  perceive  the  snare  behind  him.  Another  back- 
ward step  and  he  sank  into  a  morass,  from  which  he 
could  not  extricate  himself.  He  surrendered,  and 
Opechancanough  and  his  warriors  drew  him  forth  and 
led  him  away  a  prisoner.  Instant  death  was  not  tc 
be  awarded  to  the  dexterous  captive,  in  whom  was 


264:         DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

recognized  the  famed  leader  of  Jamestown.     His  fate 
was  to  be  decided  by  tlie  emperor,  Powliattan. 

The  palace  of  this  Indian  sovereign  was  limitless. 
Natm-e   was    the    unrivaled   architect.      Tulip-trees 
formed  its  graceful  arches  ;  giant  pines  its  columns, 
wound  with  living,  rather  than  sculptured  ivy ;  and 
the  sky  its  faultless  dome.     The  throne  of  Powhattan 
was  a  couch  of  mats ;  his  crown,  plumes  from  the  ea- 
gle's wing ;  his  robe  of  fur,  was  as  ample  as  a  Koman 
toga,  and  his  jewels  of  state  were  "  a  rich  chaine  of 
great  pearles."      His  presence   had   the   true   royal 
bearing.     Smith  describes  it  of  "  such  majestic  as  he 
could  not  expresse,  nor  yet  had  often  scene,  either  in 
Pao-an  or  Christians."     Two  Indian  beauties  sat  on 
either  hand    of  the   haughty   emperor ;    and  "  grim 
courtiers,"  helmeted  with  scalp-locks  and  gaudy  feath- 
ers, and  armed  with  huge  bows,  and  tufted  arrows, 
surrounded  the  rude  throne.     Every  one  had  assumed 
his  choicest  decorations,  and  his  grandest  demeanor, 
in  expectation  of  the  distinguished  captive,  whose  ap- 
proach had  been  heralded  by  runners. 

Opechancanough  and  his  scenting  party  presently 
appeared  with  the  victim,  who  had  been  feasted  du- 
ring his  progress  to  the  imperial  residence,  in  prepa- 
ration for  expected  sacrifice.  A  simultaneous  shout 
arose  from  the  waiting  assemblage  and  the  newly- 
arrived,  as  Smith  was  presented  to  the  king.  Princely 
honors  were  accorded  him.  The  beautiful  queen  of 
Apamattuck  brought  water  to  bathe  his  hands,  and  a 
y->ung  maiden  offered  a  bunch  of  feathers   to   dry 


JOHN    SMITH.  265 


o 


them.  Others  served  him  up  a  feast  upon  great  plat- 
ters. While  he  was  thus  entertained,  the  chieftains 
were  in  close  counsel  with  Powhattan,  as  to  the  dis- 
posal of  this  brave  sachem  of  the  whites.  His  death 
was  decided  upon.  Two  stones  were  imDiediately 
rolled  into  the  area  before  the  rojal  seat,  and  fierce- 
ejed  executioners  stood  ready  with  their  war-clubs. 
A  dozen  leaped  forward  with  a  savage  jell,  and 
dragged  the  prisoner  towards  the  spot. 

Among  the  group  near  Powhattan,  was  a  child  of 
ten  years,  the  "  king's  dearest  daughter,"  watching 
with  keen  interest  the  preparations,  which  even  to 
her  unused  eje,  betokened  death.     She  saw  the  brave 
stranger  dragged  forth  and  bound,  and  none  to  de- 
fend him.      Her  sympathies   were  awakened;    her 
pulse  quickened,  and  a  glow  of  ardor  suffused  her 
face ;  suspense,  fear,  pity,  were  in  her  attitude.     The 
victim  was  ready,  the  blow  about  to  descend.     With 
the  swift  bound  of  the  roe,  the  child  sprang  towards 
the  prostrate  form  of  Smith,  threw  her  arms  around 
him,  and  laid  her  head  upon  his.     The  noble  impulse, 
the  daring,  the  artless  tenderness  of  the  young  girl, 
struck  the  savage  assemblage  with  awe  and  admira- 
tion.    Powhattan  was  overcome,  and  his  decree  that 
Smith  should  live,  was  acceded  to  without  a  murmur 
from  those  who,  though  their  eyes  were  whetted  for 
the  bloody  scene,  forgot  their  passion  in  amazement 
at  the  rescue.     They  appreciated  the  bold  temper,  if 
not  the  beautiful  spirit,  that  impelled  Pocahontas  to 
the  humane  deed. 
L 


266         DISCO VEREKS    A^D   PIONEEES    OF   AMEEICA. 

Smith  was  detained  for  a  few  days,  to  gratify  the 
curiosity  of  the  Indians.  He  related  his  adventures, 
described  the  fleets  upon  the  waters,  the  cities  of  the 
Old  World,  and  the  number  and  power  of  its  inhabi- 
tants. The  savages  could  scarcely  have  comprehend- 
ed the  strength  of  European  population,  for,  some 
time  afterwards,  one  was  sent  to  England  with  orders 
to  register,  by  a  notch  upon  a  stick,  every  person  he 
met.  Finding  the  census  outreached  his  stick  the 
first  hour,  he  threw  it  away,  and,  on  his  return  to  his 
people,  said,  "  Count  the  stars  in  the  sky,  the  leaves 
of  the  forest,  and  the  sands  of  the  sea  shore  —  such 
is  the  number  of  the  people  of  England." 

Smith  was  allowed  to  return  to  Jamestown,  on  con- 
dition he  would  give  Powhattan  two  cannon  and  a 
grind-stone  —  articles  which  had  especially  captiva- 
ted the  king^s  fancy.  An  escort  of  Indians  accom- 
panied him  to  the  colony,  and  to  these  he  offered  the 
coveted  guns  and  grind-stone.  They  endeavored  in 
vain  to  shoulder  the  weighty  gifts,  and,  when  Smith 
applied  a  torch  to  one  of  the  loaded  cannon,  the  pooi 
Indians,  terrified  at  the  report,  were  glad  to  fly  from 
the  bewitched  pieces,  and  return  empty  handed. 
Smith  was  greeted  by  the  colonists  as  one  risen  from 
the  dead.  As  had  often  been  the  case,  he  found  the 
settlement  in  a  factions  and  starving  condition.  And 
as  he  had  often  done  before,  he  straightened  affairs 
and  procured  abundant  supplies  from  the  Indians, 
who  now  regarded  him  as  a  superior  being.  The  ar- 
rival of  Captain  Newport,  however,  again  produced 


JOHIT   SMITH.  207 

discord.  His  search  for  gold  dust  provea  unfortu- 
nate to  tlie  colony,  in  various  ways.  His  departure 
was  not  regretted. 

The  spring  of  the  next  year  was  occupied  in  re- 
building Jamestown,  as  it  had  been  nearly  destroyed 
by  fire  during  the  winter.  Frequent  excursions  to 
Powhattan's  dominions,  or  those  of  neighboring  chief- 
tains, occurred  during  the  summer,  and  gifts  and  vis- 
its were  often  received  from  the  young  Pocahontas, 
who,  not  forgetting  her  favorite,  came  to  express  her 
afi'ection  for  the  fatherly  captain,  and  sometimes  to 
avert  evil  from  him  and  his.  'Not  only  the  fickle  pol- 
icy of  Powhattan,  but  the  hostility  of  other  chief- 
tains, frequently  endangered  the  existence  of  the  set- 
tlement —  a  catastrophe  repeatedly  averted  either  by 
the  humanity  of  the  faithful  Pocahontas,  or  the  vigi- 
lant activity  of  Smith.  He  negotiated  with  the  In- 
dians, in  their  own  spirit  of  cunning,  and  never  scru- 
pled to  employ  untruths  when  it  suited  his  purpose. 
As  from  time  to  time,  they  discovered  his  decejjtions, 
his  superiority  was  lessened  in  their  eyes,  and  they 
battled  with  him  as  they  would  with  a  brave  warrior 
of  their  own  race.  He  never,  by  his  own  upright 
dealing,  awakened  a  sense  of  honor  or  justice,  in  the 
the  mind  of  the  savage  —  sentiments  of  which  the 
humane  Penn  proved  them  capable.  But  Smith's 
courage  and  strength  was  such  that  he  was  generally 
feared.  At  one  time,  the  natives  were  in  the  habit 
of  entering  the  town,  and  possessing  themselves  of 
whatever  articles  struck  their  fancy.     When  tlie  theft 


268  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

was  discovered,  tliey  endured  a  beating  with  as  much 
nonchalance  as  a  Chinese  beggar.  One  of  them  hap- 
pened to  meddle  with  some  of  the  captain's  weapons. 
He  pounced  upon  them  like  an  enraged  tiger,  drove 
them  from  the  town,  and  sent  them  flying  over  the 
hills  in  fright.  If  he  ever  had  occasion  to  doubt  the 
good  faith  of  a  party  of  Indians,  he  would  dash  into 
their  midst  with  the  same  fierceness,  seize  their  chief- 
tain by  his  scalp-lock,  drag  him  to  his  own  men  and 
parley  with  the  astounded  savages,  while  he  had  their 
sachem  in  his  power.  So  great  was  their  fear  of  him 
that  Powhattan,  in  a  speech  full  of  reproach  at  the 
attempts  of  the  English  to  obtain  "  by  force,  that 
which  they  might  quickly  have  by  love,"  confessed 
that  even  at  the  sound  of  a  breaking  twig,  his  people 
cried  out,  "  There  cometh  Captain  Smith  !  " 

Upon  the  return  of  Captain  I^ewport  from  Eng- 
land, the  distrust  of  Powhattan  increased.  He  had 
brought  with  him  a  crown,  a  cloak,  and  a  royal  couch, 
for  the  forest  monarch,  but  the  receiver,  so  far  from 
showing  pleasure  at  the  gifts,  feared  to  wrap  his 
swarthy  form  in  the  scarlet  cloak,  and  would  not  qui- 
etly submit  to  a  coronation,  which  he  believed  beto- 
kened evil.  Captain  Newport  only  succeeded  in 
dropping  the  kingly  circle  upon  his  brows,  when  ft.  ur 
soldiers  had  forced  the  proud  chieftain  to  bend  the 
knee.  The  lavish  bestowal  of  articles  which,  previ- 
ously held  at  high  value,  had  secured  an  abundant 
exchange  of  grain  to  the  colonists,  was  a  source  of 
much  trouble  to  them.     Smith  expostulated  with  the 


JOHN   SMITH.  269 

newcomers,  and,  as  he  ex23ected,  great  difficulty  wag 
experienced  in  obtaining  supplies  for  the  returning 
voyage,  as  well  as  for  the  present  need  of  the  en- 
larged colony. 

The  infatuated  Newport  did  not  gain  what  he  de- 
sired by  his  presents  —  the  friendship  and  assistance 
of  Powhattan.  lie  was  fully  bent  upon  seeking  gold, 
and,  with  one  hundred  and  twenty  of  his  men, 
searched  the  wilderness,  while  Smith,  now  President 
of  Jamestown,  proceeded,  with  ninety  men,  to  load 
the  vessel,  that  it  might  be  in  readiness  at  JSTewport's 
return.  Many  of  the  new  comers  were  gentlemen  — • 
"  younger  sons  "  of  the  nobility,  and,  of  course,  un- 
used to  the  labor  of  backwoodsmen.  These,  Smith 
conducted  to  the  woods,  placed  implements  in  their 
hands,  and  taught  them  the  art  of  felling  trees,  ma- 
king clap-boards,  and  how  to  endure  a  hardy  life. 
They  began  with  a  good  will,  since  Smith  wielded  his 
axe  with  the  rest ;  but  a  few  strokes  blistered  the  fair 
hands  of  the  amateur  wood-cutters,  and  "  many  times 
every  third  blow  had  a  loud  othe  to  drowne  the 
echo."  To  prevent  the  use  of  language  which  never 
sullied  his  own  lips.  Smith  caused  an  effectual  pun- 
ishment. For  every  oath  uttered  during  the  day,  a 
can  of  cold  water  was  poured  down  the  sleeve  of  the 
offender.  A  week  sufficed  to  check  the  profanity. 
"When  Newport  returned  unsuccessful  from  his  expe- 
dition, he  found  the  vessel  loaded  and  provided  for 
liis  departure,  through  the  untiring  exertions,  and 
skillful  supervision  of  Captain  Smith. 


270         DISCOVEREES   AND   PIONEERS   OF   AMERICA. 

After  tliis,  several  occurrences  contributed  to  estab- 
lish peace  between  Powhattan  and  the  English.  An 
Indian  had  apparently  died  from  the  ignorant  use  of 
charcoal.  By  simple  methods,  Smith  restored  him  to 
life,  to  the  surprise  of  the  savages,  who  believed  him 
gifted  with  a  miraculous  power.  Other  circumstan- 
ces, trifling  in  themselves,  served  to  inspire  the  na- 
tives with  awe.  Many  stolen  articles  were  returned, 
and  Powhattan  entreated  peace.  For  a  long  time 
succeeding,  the  colony  flourished  to  an  unusual  degree. 
Under  Smith's  vigorous  direction,  twenty  new  houses 
were  built,  the  church  repaired,  two  block-houses 
erected,  and  the  live  stock  greatly  increased  and  im- 
proved by  care.  Provisions  were  abundant,  and  the 
Indians  punctually  and  cheerfully  assisted  them,  in- 
structing the  English  how  to  prepare  and  plant  their 
fields.  But  this  happy  peace  and  prosperity  was  in- 
terrupted by  the  arrival  of  a  large  fleet  from  England, 
which  brought  nine  hundred  persons.  Most  of  them 
were  profligate  and  inefficient  men,  under  the  juris- 
diction of  several  noblemen,  who  had  engaged  in  the 
enterprise.  JSTewport  had  misrepresented  Smith  to 
the  authorities  in  England,  and  he  found  supporters 
of  his  ungenerous  charges,  in  the  factious  persons 
whom  the  president  had  dismissed  from  the  colony. 
Their  arrival  was  the  signal  for  discord  and  misfor- 
tune. Smith  battled  manfully  with  the  difficulties 
that  daily  presented  themselves.  But  his  patience 
was  exhausted,  and  he  began  to  think  of  abandoning 
the  colony  or  at  least  meditated  a  return  to  England, 


JOHN   SMITH.  271 

for  a  time,  to  urge  upon  his  countrymen  the  necessity 
of  selecting  hardy,  jDersevering  men,  and  adopting 
measures  unbiased  by  jealousy  or  deceit,  to  secure 
the  establishment  of  a  flourishing  republic.  His  pur- 
pose was  quickened  by  an  accident,  which  nearly 
proved  fatal  to  his  life.  Wliile  passing  in  his  boat 
down  the  river,  towards  Jamestown,  a  bag  of  gun- 
powder exploded,  and  frightfully  mangled  and  la- 
cerated the  person  of  Smith.  He  threw  himself 
into  the  water,  in  the  delirium  of  pain,  and  was  bare- 
ly saved  from  drowning.  'No  surgeon  in  Jamestown 
was  skillful  enough  to  heal  his  wounds ;  he  found  it 
necessary  to  embark  for  England.  In  the  autumn  of 
1609,  he  sailed  from  Yirginia,  never  to  hail  its  shores 
again. 

After  his  return  to  his  native  land,  several  years 
were   pleasantly   spent   in   retirement   and    literary 
labors.     He  published  a  map  of  Virginia,  in  1612, 
together  with  a  ''  description  of  the  country,  the  com- 
modities, people,  government,  and  religion."     Yerse- 
making  was  also  among  his  occupations.     In  1614,  he 
engaged  in  an  enterprise,  which  had  for  its  object,  the 
seeking  of  gold  and  copper  mines  in  New  England, 
in  addition  to  whale-fishery.'    He  had  two  ships  in 
the  service,  and  was  absent  six  months.     The  next 
year,  he  attempted  a  second  expedition  with  but  one 
vessel.     Misfortune   attended   him   from  the  outset. 
He  w^as  successively  chased  by  three  pirate  ships,  and 
finally  by  a  French  man-of-war,  which  overcame  his 
insignificant  bark.     He  was  taken  prisoner,  and  re- 


272  DISC0VEREK3    A^'D    PIONEEKS    OF    AMERICA. 

mained  such  for  six  months,  when,  on  a  stormy  night, 
he  possessed  himself  of  the  ship's  boat,  and,  without 
an  oar  to  guide  it,  committed  himself  to  the  wide 
waste  of  stormy  waters.  He  was  providentially  cast 
upon  an  island,  where  he  was  soon  picked  up.  The 
ship  he  abandoned  was  wrecked,  and  the  captain  and 
half  of  the  crew  were  lost.  Smith  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing France.  The  sympathy  of  some  of  his  country- 
men there,  and  the  assistance  of  a  French  lady,  Mad- 
ame Chanois,  enabled  him  to  return  to  England. 

In  1616,  Captain  Smith  was  preparing  for  a  third 
voyage  to  'New  England.  A  lively  interest  in  the 
New  World  was  occasioned,  at  this  time,  by  the  arri- 
val of  the  beautiful  and  famed  Pocahontas.  Her  pre- 
sentation at  court,  her  novel  style  of  beauty,  her  art- 
less manner,  and  the  noble  heart  that  was  known  to 
exist  beneath  her  gentle  exterior,  were  themes  for 
every  lip.  The  tidings  of  her  coming  reached  Cap- 
tain Smith,  and  he  immediately  went  to  welcome 
her.  The  sight  of  him  was  a  surprise  to  the  young 
princess,  for  she  had  been  made  to  believe  that  he 
was  dead.  But,  with  true  Indian  stoicism,  she  gave 
"  a  modest  salutation,"  and,  perhaps  grieved  at  the 
reserved  manner  of  him  who  owed  his  life  to  her,  and 
who  knew  she  revered  him  above  all  others  of  his 
race,  she  turned  away,  hid  her  face  and  remained  in 
silence.  She  could  not  comprehend  the  injunction 
of  the  king,  that  every  one.  Smith  included,  should 
approach  her  with  a  distant  deference  to  her  Indian 
royalty.     She  was  disappointed  at  the  seemingly  cold 


JOHN    SMITH.  273 

greeting  of  the  captain.  The  remembrances,  too,  that 
his  face  called  up  —  the  grand,  wild  forest,  where  she 
could  wander  at  will ;  her  doting  father,  her  compan- 
ions, her  wigwam-home,  and  the  young  braves,  who 
were  swift  to  do  her  bidding  —  all  floated  before  her 
memory  ;  and  perhaps  it  was  these  overpowering 
recollections,  as  well  as  the  presence  of  one  loved 
from  childhood,  that  made  her  shroud  her  face  from 
the  gaze  of  strangers,  and  remain  in  mute  grief  for 
hours.  She  died  among  the  pale-faces.  The  broad 
sunlight  of  civilization  wilted  the  wild  flower  that 
had  blossomed  in  the  shade  of  Yirginian  forests. 

The  year  succeeding  this  event,  1622,  was  remark- 
able, in  Kew  World  annals,  for  the  massacre  at 
Jamestown.  Captain  Smith,  excited  and  nerved  for 
new  efforts,  endeavored  to  enlist  others  in  an  attempt 
to  restore  the  settlement.  He  could  not  remain  inac- 
tive, and  behold  the  town,  which  had  risen  from  the 
wilderness  by  his  own  unceasing  diligence,  abandoned 
to  the  pillage  of  savages,  and  the  desolation  of  time. 
But  all  that  he  had  done  for  Virginia,  all  that  he  had 
suffered  in  her  service,  all  that  he  had  written  for 
the  furtherance  of  that  plantation,  was  of  no  avail. 
Changes  came  round  with  every  year.  The  interests 
of  the  American  colony  j)assed  into  new  hands.  The 
services  of  Smith  were  forgotten.  He  could  obtain 
no  appointment,  nor  did  he  receive  any  reward, 
though  in  poverty  ;  yet,  for  nine  years  he  continued 
to  write  and  publish  works  concerning  the  ]New 
L*  18 


274         DISC0VEREK8    AND   PIONEEKS    OF   AMEEICA. 

"World,  and  interested  himself  in  every  movement  for 
its  colonization. 

He  died  in  1631,  in  his  fifty-second  year,  disap- 
pointed, but  not  subdued.  His  sagacity,  his  fierce 
will,  his  quick  perceptions,  his  executive  mind,  should 
have  crowned  his  declining  years  with  success ;  but 
his  several  desperado  qualities,  and  the  lack  of  stabil- 
ity and  of  Christian  spirit,  made  his  old  age  and  his 
memory  as  mournful  as  the  broken,  ivy-mantled  tower, 
which  is  all  that  remains  of  the  city  which  he  found- 
ed —  a  bold  and  picturesque  ruin. 


VII. 

MILES  STANDISn. 

Captain  Miles  Standish  was  called  the  hero  o' 
New  England,  by  one  of  the  earlier  colonial  histo- 
rians. His  relation  to  Plymouth  and  the  Pilgrims, 
has  been  compared  with  that  of  Captain  John  Smith 
to  the  land  of  the  cavaliers  —  Virginia,  And  cer- 
tainly, though  he  may  not  have  left  a  name  for  greater 
moral  heroism  and  loftier  qualities  of  mind  than  many 
of  his  fellow-Pilgrims,  yet  his  character  and  deeds 
more  readily  engage  the  imagination.  While  no  one 
of  the  many  noble  settlers  at  Plymouth  was  very  emi- 
nent above  the  rest,  Standish  was  peculiar,  in  his  po- 
sition and  his  traits.  At  first  glance,  it  is  hard  to 
explain  his  connection  with  them.  Descended  from 
a  family  in  whose  veins  coursed  noble  and  martial 
blood,  trained  to  military  service  in  England  and 
Holland,  distinguished  somewhat  for  his  brave  con- 
duct in  the  latter  country,  and  with  a  fair  prospect  of 
promotion  before  him,  he  seems  to  have  suddenly 
abandoned  an  alluring  career,  in  order  to  attach  him- 
self to  a  poor  and  persecuted  band  of  religionists. 
What  were  his  real  motives,  and  what  his  part,  iu 


276         DISCO VEEEES    AKD   TIONEEES   OF   AMEEICA. 

laying  tlie  found ation  of  our  civil  and  religious  free- 
dom, must  be  gathered  from  the  imperfect  records  of 

his  life. 

The  earliest  mention  of  his  family,  is  during  the 
reign  of  Ilenry  YIII.,  when  it  was  represented  by 
Henry  Standish,  a  bigoted  Franciscan  bishop,  and  a 
Cambridge  Doctor  of  Divinity.  In  Queen  Mary's 
time,  the  bishop's  nephew  violently  opposed  the  trans- 
lation of  the  Bible  into  the  English  language.  After 
an  mterval  of  many  years,  and  during  the  life  of  Cap- 
tain Standish,  Sir  Richard,  is  mentioned ;  also,  the 
village  of  Standish,  and  Standish  Hall,  in  Lancashire. 
In  1707,  Sir  Thomas  lived  at  Duxbury,  the  name  of 
the  family  seat  in  Lancashire,  and  as  Captain  Stand- 
ish was  one  of  the  first  settlers  of  Duxbury  in  Massa- 
chusetts, it  is  reasonable  to  presume  the  former  to 
have  been  his  English  home,  and  that  the  new  town 
was  named  in  remembrance  of  his  early  associations. 

The  first  exercise  of  his  military  talents,  was  in  the 
^Netherlands,  in  a  war  in  behalf  of  the  Dutch  —  the 
same  in  which  Raleigh  was  engaged.  Upon  the  set- 
tlement of  a  treaty,  Captain  Standish  remained  at 
Leyden,  with  the  Pilgrims.  Amsterdam  had  been 
their  first  resting  place.  A  portion  of  the  original 
church  had  preceded  them,  and,  for  a  time,  existed 
harmoniously  under  the  rule  of  grave  and  godly  eld- 
ers, and  the  quaint  superintendence  of  an  aged  dea- 
coness, who,  seated  upon  a  bench  of  state,  and  sway- 
ing a  birchen  scepter,  kept  the  unruly  urchins  of  the 
congregation  in  awe  ;  but  this  simplicity  and  harmo- 


MILES    STANDISII.  277 

ny  presently  gave  place  to  a  quarrelsome,  mad  spirit. 
Among  them  were  "  some  unreasonable,  if  not  wick- 
ed men,  given  to  oppositions  of  self-will  and  vain 
janglings  about  mint,  anise,  and  cummin,  how  many 
ribbons  a  woman  should  wear  upon  her  bonnet  and 
other  like  things."  The  strife  was  carried  so  far 
against  the  pastor's  wife,  for  wearing  corked  shoes, 
and  whalebones  in  the  bodice  and  sleeves  of  her 
dress,  such  as  were  then  worn  by  citizens  of  rank 
with  whom  she  had  been  accustomed  to  associate, 
that,  although  she  was  an  exemplary  and  "  godly 
matron,"  and  submitted  to  their  prejudices  so  far  as 
to  alter  her  garments  as  much  as  possible  without  al- 
together spoiling  them,  yet  they  would  not  accord 
peace  to  her,  to  themselves,  nor  any  one  concerned. 
Several  excommunications  resulted,  which  only  served 
to  heisihten  the  disturbance. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  war  of  words,  that  Hob- 
inson  and  his  devoted  band  arrived,  fresh  from  the 
persecutions  of  England,  hoping  to  find  rest,  and 
yearning  for  kindness  and  brotherly  love.  But  one 
year's  stay  convinced  them  of  the  unhapjDy  influence 
of  narrow-minded  bickerings  ;  and,  although  Amster- 
dam was  best  suited  to  their  worldly  prosperity,  they 
decided  to  remove  to  Leyden,  valuing  peace  and  spir- 
itual comfort  above  every  thing  else.  The  witness- 
ing of  those  contentions,  without  being  a  party  to 
them,  left  a  lasting  and  salutary  impression  upon  the 
minds   of  the  Pilgrims.     It  was  a  lesson  to  which 


278  DISCOVERERS    AND    TIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

they  owed  mucli  of  the  forbearance  afterwards  exer 
cised  towards  each  other,  and  towards  the  world. 

At  Lejden,  they  soon  felt  the  approach  of  poverty  ; 
for,  having  been  farmers  in  England,  they  were  ill-pre- 
pared to  gain  a  livelihood  among  the  mechanics  of 
Ley  den.  "  Brewster  became  a  printer  ;  Bradford 
learned  the  art  of  dyeing  silk,"  and,  in  time,  by  "be- 
ing careful  to  keep  their  word,  and  painful  and  dili- 
gent in  their  callings,"  this  faithful  band  acquired  "  a 
comfortable  condition,  grew  in  the  gifts  and  grace  of 
the  spirit  of  God,  and  lived  together  in  peace  and 
love  and  holiness."  So  entirely  harmonious  were 
they,  that  the  magistrates  of  the  city  publicly  noted 
the  fact  that,  during  the  eleven  years  of  their  stay, 
not  an  accusation  had  been  brought  against  them. 
All  Holland  loved  and  admired  them. 

It  is  not  w^onderful  that  one,  coming  from  the  vio- 
lence, the  debauchery,  of  war,  and  the  infidelity  and 
blasphemy  common  among  soldiery,  should  be  struck 
with  the  beauty  and  simplicity  of  the  Pilgrims'  creed, 
and  the  sincerity  in  which  they  held  it.  It  was 
BO  with  Standish.  Integrity  was  one  of  his  chief  vir- 
tues, else  he  could  hardly  have  been  attracted  to  the 
upright  brotherhood.  And,  once  attracted  to  them, 
his  generous  nature  could  not  withhold  its  sympathy 
for  their  sufi'erings  and  povertv  nor  could  he  w^itness 
their  cheerful  endurance  without  admiration  and  love, 
or  behold  their  daily,  unostentatious  faith  in  Christ, 
without  reverencing  their  religion,  and  their  God. 
He  did  not  unite  with  their  church,  but  he  was  so 


MILES    STANDISH.  279 

won  by  "  their  liumble  zeal  and  fervent  love  towards 
God  and  his  ways,  and  their  single-heartedness  and 
sincere  affection,  one  towards  another,"  that,  whatev- 
er had  been  the  ambition  of  his  youth,  he  abandoned 
it,  and  cast  his  lot  with  his  exiled  countrymen. 

To  the  worldling,  his  choice  of  sojourn  with  the 
Pilgrims  is  unaccountable ;  to  the  Christian,  it  is  a 
beautiful  ordering  of  Providence,  giving  thus  to  the 
chosen  people  of  God,  a  leader  whose  qualities  emi- 
nently fitted  him  to  become  their  champion  in  the 
dangers  of  the  wilderness.  Possessing  remarkable 
energy  and  decision  of  character,  and  accustomed,  as 
no  other  one  among  the  Pilgrims  was,  to  the  usages 
of  war,  he  was  a  "  host  within  hims-elf ;"  and,  though 
full  of  martial  spirit,  his  fine  appreciation  of  their 
principles  never  arrayed  him  against  themselves.  He 
had  reached  the  maturity  and  stability  of  manhood 
before  he  became  one  of  the  persecuted  band.  He  was 
short,  and  thick-set,  in  person,  but  carried  an  air  of 
promptness,  activity,  and  of  command,  that  enforced 
obedience.  Although  qualified  to  become  the  milita- 
ry leader  of  the  future  colony,  he  joined  them  with 
no  such  ambition,  for  they  voyaged  with  more  of  the 
talismans  of  peace  than  the  weapons  of  war.  Stand- 
ish  was  necessary,  in  the  hands  of  God,  to  the  preser- 
vation of  the  ]^ew  England  colony.  Thus,  uncon- 
sciously, he  was  under  the  guidance  of  the  Almighty 
in  his  choice. 

The  emigration  of  the  Pilgrims  to  America,  was 
long:  a  subject  of  discussion  and  prayer.     They  had 


*280  DISCOVEllEKS    AND   PIONEERS   OF   AMEHICA. 

never  become  familiar  with  the  language  and  man- 
ners of  the  Dutch.  The  general  desecration  of  the 
Sabbath  was  painful  to  them,  and  they  feared  the 
effects  of  such  example  upon  their  children  ;  for  the 
islanded  city,  with  its  wide  streets,  lively  with  prom- 
enaders,  and  its  intersecting  canals,  bordered  with 
trees,  and  spanned  by  innumerable  and  beautiful 
bridges,  had  a  peculiar  temptation,  on  a  sunny  Sab- 
bath, to  the  pent-up,  laboring  children  of  the  Pilgrims, 
who,  "  sharing  their  parents'  burdens,  bowed  under 
the  weight,  and  were  becoming  decrepit  in  early 
youth."  They  were  longing,  too,  to  live  again  under 
the  government  of  their  land.  America  was  chosen ; 
but  where,  upon  its  broad  expanse,  to  select  an  ad- 
vantageous home,  was  long  the  subject  of  dis^cussion 
and  negotiation.  The  "West  Indies  and  Guiana  were 
talked  of.  The  Dutch  offered  their  newly  discovered 
possessions  on  the  Hudson  ;  the  London  Com23any 
proposed  South  Yirginia,  and  the  merchant  adventu- 
rers, I^orth  Yirginia,  which  included  the  whole  of 
l^ew  England.  The  last  was  accepted,  the  others  ha- 
ving failed  to  obtain  a  charter  from  King  James,  for 
liberty  of  conscience.  The  Pilgrims  determined  to 
cast  themselves  uj^on  Providence,  and  consented  to 
depart  without  a  patent,  leaving  agents  to  obtain  it 
from  the  Company,  whether  freedom  of  worship  was 
accorded  by  the  King,  or  not. 

Two  ships,  the  Speedwell,  of  sixty  tons,  and  the 
May  Flower,  of  one  hundred  and  eighty  tons,  were 
prepared  for  the  embarkation,  but  could  not  accom 


MILES    STANDISH.  281 

modate  more  than  half  of  the  congregation,  which 
had  greatly  increased  in  numbers  since  their  removal 
from  England.  Robinson  remained  with  the  majori- 
ty of  his  flock,  while  Brewster,  already  numbering 
nearly  sixty  years,  and  who  was  "  able  as  a  teacher," 
was  chosen  to  accompany  the  youngest  and  the  hard- 
iest who  were  ready  to  undertake  the  hardships  of  the 
first  settlement. 

"  When  the  ship  was  ready  to  go,"  says  Winslow's 
journal,  "  the  brethren  that  stayed  at  Leyden,  having 
again  sought  the  Lord  with  us,  and  for  us,  feasted  us 
that  were  to  go,  at  our  pastor's  house,  it  being  large, 
where  we  refreshed  ourselves,  after  tears,  with  sino-- 
ing  of  psalms,  making  joyful  melody  in  our  hearts, 
as  well  as  with  the  voice,  there  being  many  of  the 
congregation  very  expert  in  music ;  and,  indeed,  it 
was  the  sweetest  music  that  ever  mine  ears  heard. 
After  this,  they  accompanied  us  to  Delft-Haven,  where 
we  went  to  embark,  and  then  feasted  us  again  ;  and 
after  prayer,  performed  by  our  pastor,  when  a  flood 
of  tears  was  poured  out,  they  accompanied  us  to  the 
ship,  but  were  not  able  to  speak  one  to  another  for 
the  abundance  of  sorrow  to  part.  But  we  only,  going 
aboard,  gave  them  a  volley  of  small  shot  and  three 
pieces  of  ordnance  ;  and  so,  lifting  up  our  hands  to 
each  other,  and  our  hearts  for  each  other,  to  the  Lord 
our  God,  we  departed." 

In  a  fortnight,  they  reached  Southampton,  and  then 
sailed  for  America.  They  were  obliged  to  return  to 
Dartmouth  for  repairs,  which  detained  them  another 


282         DISC0VEKER3    AI^D    PIONEERS    OF    A^IERICA. 

week.  Again  tliey  set  sail,  and  again  returned,  the 
captain  of  the  Speedwell  declaring  slie  was  not  fit  for 
the  voyage.  Those  who  had  embarked  in  her,  were 
crowded  into  the  May  Flower,  and  they  now  bade  a 
last  adieu  to  England,  beginning  the  perilous  and 
lonely  voyage  on  the  sixth  of  September,  1620.  The 
generous  and  zealous  Carver,  the  unobtrusive,  virtu- 
ous Winslow,  Brewster  with  his  strong  fortitude  and 
fervent  prayers,  Bradford  with  his  moderation  and 
wisdom,  the  discreet  Allerton,  and  the  bold,  saga- 
cious, whole-souled  StaiLdish,  with  the  no  less  courage- 
ous numbers  of  young  men,  full  of  zeal  and  energy, 
and  their  pious  matrons,  and  young  wives,  ready  to 
endure  untold  sufferings,  were  together  breasting  the 
fierce  storms  of  the  Atlantic,  in  one  little  bark, 
"  freighted  with  the  destinies  of  a  continent." 
Through  all  the  voyage,  they  cheered  and  consoled 
each  other,  always  looking  to  God  with  the  same  un- 
doubting  trust  with  which  a  tender  child  turns  to  its 
father,  in  danger. 

The  frosty,  cold,  ^November  days  had  come,  before 
the  Pilgrims  had  the  first  glimpse  of  their  western 
home.  They  espied  land  on  the  ninth  of  the  month, 
and,  as  they  neared  it,  were  consoled  to  find  it  "  wood- 
ed to  the  brinke  of  the  sea."  They  judged  rightly 
that  they  beheld  Cape  Cod,  with  its  circling  bay^ 
"  compassed  about  to  the  very  sea  with  okes,  pines, 
juniper,  sassafras,  and  other  sweet  wood."  The  coast 
in  the  vicinity  of  Hudson  River,  was  their  intended 
landing-place,  but  their  captain,  probably  by  conni 


MILES    STANDISH.  283 

vance,  broiiglit  tliem  upon  the  more  bleak  and  uninvi- 
ting shores  of  Kew  England  ;  happily,  as  it  proved,  for 
the  whole  region,  as  if  by  a  special  preparation  of 
Providence,  had  been  lately  swejDt  of  its  savage  pop- 
ulation, by  a  fearful  pestilence.  There  was  no  clus- 
tering of  natives  upon  the  shore,  to  greet  or  to  repel 
them.  Yet,  they  hesitated  to  land,  for,  as  they  round- 
ed the  bay,  not  an  inviting  spot  presented  itself  for 
landing  or  for  shelter.  At  length  they  anchored  in 
Plymouth  harbor.  Dr.  Cheever  describes  it,  at  high 
tide,  as  a  "magnificent  bay,  studded  with  islands, 
and  opening  proudly  into  the  ocean ;  but,  at  low  tide, 
an  immense  extent  of  muddy,  salt-grassed,  and  sea- 
weeded  shallows,  with  a  narrow  stream  winding  its 
way  among  them  to  find  the  sea."  The  Pilgrims 
looked  with  doubt  upon  the  prospect  before  them,  but 
the  impatience  of  the  captain  to  land  them,  and  has- 
ten back  to  England,  gave  them  no  choice. 

Sixteen  men,  cased  in  coats  of  mail,  and  armed 
with  musket  and  sword,  were  placed  under  the  con- 
duct of  Captain  Standish,  with  a  council  of  three,  to 
reconnoitre  the  coast.  The  shallop  being  out  of  re- 
pair, they  were  forced  to  wade  through  the  icy  shal- 
lows, for  three  quarters  of  a  mile,  before  reaching 
land.  And  there  it  was  desolate  enough,  with  the 
Bharp,  cold  wind  sweeping  and  moaning  among  the 
tattered  foliage,  that  still  clung  to  the  dry,  rattling 
oranches  ;  before  them  was  the  open  wood,  with  here 
and  there  an  Indian  trail,  but  no  human  being  in 
sight ;  behind  them  the  broad,  cold  bay,  gloomy  un- 


I284r         DISCOYEEEES   AKD   PIOKEEES   OF   AlIERICA. 

der  a  leaden  J^ovember  sky,  and  rocking  upon  its  bo- 
som tlie  single  treasure  that  still  linked  them  to  ''  dear 
England," 

With  stout  hearts  and  a  good  will,  they  formed  in 
single  file,  and  marched  along  the  sea-coast,  till,  at- 
tracted by  a  glimpse  of  five  or  six  Indians,  flitting 
through  the  woods,  they  turned  into  the  forest,  hoping 
to  overtake  them.  All  day  they  traveled,  but  not  a 
sign  of  habitation  was  yet  discovered,  nor  had  they 
sight  of  the  natives.  At  night  they  slumbered  around 
a  camp-fire,  guarded  by  three  sentinels.  As  soon  as 
they  could  again  perceive  the  trail,  they  resumed  their 
march,  yet  could  neither  find  the  Indians' and  their 
homes,  nor  the  food  or  fresh  water  which  they  greatly 
needed.  After  struggling  through  "  boughes  and 
bushes,  and  under  hills  and  vallej's,"  says  the  journal 
of  the  Pilgrims,  "  which  tore  our  very  armour  in  pee- 
ces,  .  .  we  came  into  a  deepe  valley,  full  of  brush, 
wood-gaile,  and  long  grasse,  through  which  we  found 
little  paths,  or  tracks,  and  there  we  saw  a  deere,  and 
found  springs  of  fresh  water,  of  which  we  were  heart- 
ily glad,  and  sat  us  downe  and  drunke  our  first  New- 
England  water,  with  as  much  delight  as  ever  we 
drunke  drinke  in  all  our  lives." 

"Wandering  farther,  they  found  mounds  of  buried 
corn  in  baskets,  an  iron  kettle,  the  remains  of  a  fort, 
and,  near  the  shore,  two  canoes.  When  the  mounds 
were  opened,  and  the  corn  exposed  to  their  glad  eyes, 
they  gathered  around,  full  of  curiosity,  but  hesitated 
to  possess  themselves  of  it.     With  pious  honesty  they 


MILES    STANDISH.  285 

counseled  with  each  other.  Believing  they  wronged 
uo  one,  they  decided  to  take  it,  promising  themselves 
to  repay  the  owners,  when  they  could  be  found.  This 
intention  they  faithfully  fulfilled  afterwards.  The  in- 
tegrity of  the  act,  must  have  impressed  the  natives 
more  forcibly  than  a  thousand  exhortations  could 
have  done.  Bearing  with  them  as  much  corn  as  the 
weight  of  their  armor  would  permit,  they  turned  sea- 
ward by  a  different  route.  In  their  wanderings,  they 
came  to  a  young  sapling  "  bowed  downe  over  a  bow, 
and  some  acorns  strewn  underneath."  Some  per- 
ceived its  use,  but  William  Bradford  came  up  from 
the  rear,  and,  impelled  by  curiosity,  walked  around 
it,  and  finally  quite  near,  when  it  gave  a  "  sudden 
jerk  up,  and  caught  him  by  the  leg,"  to  the  chagrin 
of  the  entrapped,  and  the  merriment  of  the  rest  of 
the  party.  The  same  day  they  returned  to  the  ship. 
The  snow,  and  sleet,  and  frost  of  December  had 
come,  before  a  harbor  and  a  desirable  site  had  been 
selected.  Exploring  parties,  under  the  sturdy  Cap- 
tain Standish,  had  frequently  gone  ashore.  They  of- 
ten searched  for  corn  in  the  many  mounds  that 
swelled  under  the  snow,  but  graves,  graves,  nothing 
but  graves,  with  embalmed  bodies,  and  their  heathen 
decorations,  rewarded  their  efforts,  and  these  they 
carefully  replaced,  or  left  untouched,  unwilling  to 
disturb  the  repose  of  the  dead,  or  the  superstitious 
reverence  of  the  living.  JSTo  sight  of  the  natives  had 
been  obtained  until,  one  morning,  at  early  dawn, 
wliile  they  sat  around  their  camp-fire,  regaling  them- 


286         DISCOVERERS   AND    PIOXEERS    OF    AJVIEEIOA. 

selves  with  a  simple  meal,  a  shower  of  arrows  fell 
around  them,  and  a  frightful  jell  sounded  in  their 
ears.     Springing  to  arras,  they  aimed  as  well  as  they 
could  at  the  lurking  savages,  whose  glistening  eyes 
here  and  there  peered  out,  like  the  flaming  eyes  of 
wild  beasts,  from  behind  the  sheltering  trunks  of  the 
forest  trees.     The  unprepared  Pilgrims  presented  a 
fair  mark,  standing  as  they  did  in  the  broad  fire-light, 
and  without  the  protection  of  their  armor.     Yet  not 
one  was  wounded  in  the  skirmish,  while  several  of 
the  Indians  were  killed.     It  was  a  remarkable  pre- 
servation— a  protection  which  they  had  invoked  from 
the  Almighty  scarcely  an  hour  before,  according  to 
their  invariable  custom.     Prayer  was  the  first  duty 
of  the  morning,  no  matter  what  the  pressing  labor. 
"Whether  in  the  crowded  cabin  of  the  Mayflower,  or 
in  the  open  forest ;  whether  in  the  exposed  shallop, 
or  by  the  camp-fire";  whether  the  morning  broke  mild 
and  cheering,  or  the  hail  pelted,  the  rain  chilled,  or 
the  snow  blinded  and  benumbed  them,  they  yet  yield- 
ed their  morning  prayers,  like  daily  ijicense,  to  God, 
never  doubting  the  acceptance  of  the  sacrifice. 

The  Sabbath  was  as  faithfully  kept.  Though  the 
advancing  season,  the  severity  of  the  climate,  the 
importunity  of  the  captain,  and  the  discomfort  of  the 
narrow  and  unhealthy  quarters  on  ship-board,  de- 
manded a  speedy  settlement,  not  a  Sabbath  was  des- 
ecrated by  labor.  On  the  tenth  of  December,  Cap- 
tain Standish,  with  a  number  of  hardy  exj^lorers,  en- 
tered Plymouth  harbor,  after  coasting  several  miles 


MILES    STANDISII.  287 

in  a  rougli  sea,  and  tliroiigli  blinding  sleet.  As  night 
approached,  the  storm  increased,  the  boat  was  disa- 
oled,  and  they  were  in  danger  of  being  dashed  against 
an  island  in  the  bay,  "  compassed  about  with  many 
rocks."  They  at  last  effected  a  safe  landing,  but  drip- 
ping with  the  rain  and  salt  spray,  shivering  with  cold, 
and  not  knowing  but  they  might  receive  a  greeting 
of  arrows.  All  night  they  kept  watch,  and  the  nex^t 
morning  explored  the  island,  and  found  themselves  its 
Bole  possessors.  They  remained  still  another  day,  and 
that  was  the  Sabbath  —the  first  kept  by  the  Pilgrims 
on  the  soil  of  the  JS'ew  World.  Houseless  and  com- 
fortless, with  no  sanctuary  but  the  gray  woods,  hung 
with  icicles,  these  men,  strong  in  endurance,  and  firm 
in  faith  as  the  rocks  they  trod,  "  children  in  obedi- 
ence "  and  gentleness,  rested  the  seventh  day  and 
hallowed  it. 

"  Amidst  tlie  storm  they  sang, 

And  the  stars  heard,  and  the  sea  I 
And  the  sounding  aisles  of  the  dim  woods  rang 
To  the  anthem  of  the  free." 

On  Monday,  the  eleventh  of  December,  the  pio- 
neers landed  on  Plymouth  rock.  In  a  few  days,  the 
May  Flower  was  anchored  in  the  bay,  a  mile  and  a 
half  from  the  shore,  and  those  who  were  able  to  la- 
bor, went  on  shore  to  gather  timber,  and  to  build 
their  store-house,  barricades,  plant  their  ordnance,  and 
erect  the  little  row  of  houses  on  each  side  of  the 
newly  laid-out  street,  named  for  the  ''  pleasant  and 


288  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

goodly  city  "  of  Lejden.  The  work  j)rogressed  slowly, 
for  death  was  fast  winnowing  out  their  numbers. 
Obliged,  as  they  had  been,  to  wade  from  the  ship  to 
shore,  and  continually  exposed  to  the  wintry  storms, 
rapid  and  mortal  disease  fastened  upon  them.  Suf- 
fering from  the  hectic  cough  and  wasting  fever  of 
consumption,  they  still  labored  on  manfully,  during 
the  driving  storm,  as  w^ell  as  in  the  sunshine,  welcome 
enough  with  its  vivifying  light,  but  scarcely  less  fa- 
tal than  the  piercing  wdnd,  when  it  left  every  tree  a 
fountain  of  water-drops,  and  innumerable  rivulets 
coursing  every  way  over  the  paths  of  the  laborers. 

The  two  rows  of  houses,  wdth  their  thatched  roofs 
and  windows  of  oil-soaked  paper,  were  at  length  com- 
pleted, insignificant  in  themselves,  but  palaces  to  the 
sick  and  unsheltered  Pilgrims.  They  were  safely 
nestled  in  the  shadow^  of  the  "  great  hill,"  now  called 
Burial  Hill,  upon  which  a  fort  was  erected,  which 
served,  also,  as  the  "  meeting-house."  Below  them 
was  the  first  terrace  where  their  dead  were  laid  in 
unmarked  graves,  for  even  the  mounds  were  leveled, 
to  hide  the  fact  of  their  diminishing  force,  from  the 
eyes  of  lurking  Indians.  They  had  reason  to  fear  the 
savages.  The  exploit  of  Hunt,  in  carrying  off  twenty 
Indians  into  slavery,  a  year  or  two  previous,  had  ex- 
asperated them  against  the  English,  and  their  con- 
cealed and  suspicious  movements  indicated  a  spirit  of 
revenge.  Often  their  infuriated  yell  resounded  in  the 
forest,  awakening  fresh  anxiety  in  the  hearts  of  the 
feeble  colony,  and,  as  often,  Captain  Standish,  with  a 


MILES   6TANDISII.  289 

few  of  tlie  boldest  spirits,  scoured  the  woods  for  miles 
around,  to  know  the  extent  of  the  danger,  but  inva- 
riably returned  without  discovering  the  foe.  Had  the 
spirits  of  the  dead  hosts  come  back  to  their  old  hunt- 
ing ground,  they  could  not  more  successfully  have 
flitted  to  and  fro,  and  vanished  with  more  unearthly 
screams,  than  did  the  tormentors  of  the  Pilo-rim 
settlers. 

The  peril,  toil,  and  suffering  of  the  colonists,  were 
rendered  more  painful  by  the  depressing  loss  of 
nearly  half  their  number.  Yet  these  bereavements 
were  scarcely  chronicled  by  the  Pilgrims.  Every 
other  event  was  noticed  in  the  journal.  Governor 
Bradford's  register  alone  contained  the  mournful  list ; 
and  "  it  was  like  a  book  of  sad  engravings  from  a 
forest  of  tomb-stones."  Eight  deaths  were  recorded 
in  January  ;  the  last  reads  thus  :  —  "  Jan.  29.  Dies 
Hose^  the  wife  of  Captain  Standishy  She  is  said  to 
have  been  the  first  person  who  was  debarked  from 
the  May  Flower.  The  Journal  saj^s  only,  against  the 
same  date,  "  In  the  morning,  cold  frost  and  sleete,  but 
after,  reasonable  fayre  ;  both  the  long  Boate  and  the 
Shallop  brought  our  common  goods  on  shore."  Thus 
death  went  and  came  without  disturbing  the  routine 
of  labor,  however  heavy  the  weight  of  grief.  To  the 
frank,  loving,  and  noble-hearted  Standish,  it  must 
have  been  a  poignant  sorrow,  the  deeper  because  of 
the  knowledge  that  the  comforts  of  life  were  want- 
ing, and  that  his  companion  was  often  deprived  of 
his  presence,  when  she  longed  for  his  soothing  voice 
M  19 


290         DISCOVERERS   AKD   PIONEERS   OP    AMERICA. 

in  the  midst  of  the  din  of  the  dark,  crowded  cabin. 
Neither,  probably,  had  he  the  Christian's  support 
which  imparted  nnflinching  fortitude  to  his  fellow- 
snfferers.  He  must  go  and  bury  his  dead,  almost 
alone,  and  leave  no  mound  to  mark  her  resting-place 
—  and  no  record  to  the  world,  but  the  simple  sen- 
tence— "Dies  Kose,  the  wife  of  Captain  Standish." 
"  The  only  relic  of  the  w^ife  and  mother "  that  re- 
mains to  us,  says  a  writer,  "  is  that  piece  of  needle- 
work by  the  daughter,  preserved  among  the  curiosi- 
osities  of  Pilgrim  Hall." 

Early  in  February,  a  fresh  alarm  from  the  Indians 
decided  the  colonists  to  adopt  some  methodical  action 
for  greater  security.  They  accordingly  assembled 
on  the  seventeenth,  to  establish  military  orders. 
Standish  was  elected  captain,  with  the  authority  to 
command  in  all  affrays.  While  engaged  in  organi- 
zing this  first  militia  company,  their  attention  was  at- 
tracted by  two  savages,  standing  conspicuously  upon 
a  hill-top,  and  making  signs  for  the  white  men  to  meet 
them.  Captain  Standish,  accompanied  by  Stephen 
Ho2:)kins,  went  towards  them,  laying  down  their  mus- 
kets in  sign  of  peace  ;  but  they  had  scarcely  reached 
the  foot  of  the  hill  before  the  fi'ightened  natives  fled. 
Nothing  further  was  seen  of  them,  although  the 
sounds  from  behind  the  hill  indicated  the  presence  of 
many  more. 

The  sixteenth  of  March,  the  colonists  again  assem- 
bled to  complete  their  military  organization.  While 
thu-fe  engaged,  a  sudden  alarm  brought  the  whole  of 


MILES    STANDISn.  291 

tlie  little  population  to  tlieir  doors,  and  caused  no  lit- 
tle agitation  among  the  half-formed  militia.  A  tall, 
straight  savage,  of  bold  carriage,  wearing  only  a 
leathern  girdle,  edged  with  broad,  falling  fringe,  and 
armed  with  the  great  Indian  bow  and  headed  arrows, 
stalked  up  the  narroAV  street,  directly  towards  the 
"  EendezYous,"  without  a  motion  of  fear.  He  was  the 
first  native  the  Pilgrims  had  seen  within  speaking 
distance  ;  and  we  can  readily  imagine  the  anxiety 
with  which  the  staid  matrons  looked  out  from  the 
door-ways  of  their  thatched  domicils,  half  shrinking 
with  fear,  yet  held  by  curiosity ;  the  little  round  fa- 
ces, full  of  terror,  eagerly  thrust  out  from  the  crowd 
of  gowns,  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  "bug-a-boo"  man 
of  the  woods ;  and  the  busy  colonists,  taken  aback 
by  the  sudden  apparition  of  the  fearless  intruder, 
finally  following  him  up  the  street,  and  arresting  his 
progress  towards  their  store-house. 

"  Welcome  !  "  was  the  manly  salute  of  the  savage, 
when  the  English  intercepted  and  gathered  round 
him.  He  freely  communicated  to  them  all  he  knew 
of  the  surrounding  tribes,  being  able  to  speak  broken 
English,  from  his  frequent  contact  with  fishermen, 
who  for  years  had  touched  upon  the  coast.  He  re- 
turned to  his  tribe  the  next  day.  Soon  after,  and 
upon  the  Sabbath,  he  came  again,  with  "  five  other 
tall,  proper  men,"  as  the  Journal  says,  who  wore  man- 
tles of  deer  or  wild-cat  skin,  their  heads  beini2:  dressed 
with  feathers,  worn  fan-shape,  or  decorated  with  dan- 
gling fox-tails.      They  brought  skins  for  traffic,  but 


292         DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF   AJSIERIOA. 

the  colonists  refused  to  barter  witli  them,  it  beiiig  the 
Sabbath.  After  they  were  kindly  entertained,  they 
returned  to  their  tribe  of  Massasoits. 

A  happy  understanding  soon  followed.     While  the 
men  of  the  colony  were  assembled  on  public  business, 
Samoset  and  Squanto  came  among  them,  and  endeav- 
ored to  signify  the  wish  of  Massasoit  to  parley  with 
them.      Massasoit  himself  finally  appeared  upon  an 
overlooking  hill,  with  his  chieftain  brother  and  all  his 
warriors.     A  brook  glided  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and 
there  Captain  Standish,   with  half  a  dozen   chosen 
musketeers,  met  the  friendly  overtures  of  the  Indian 
king.     Massasoit  was  conducted  to  a   house  nearly 
finished,  and  given  a  seat  of  honor  beside  the  Gov- 
ernor, upon  a  green  rug,  and  a  few  cushions.     He  was 
a  tall,  well-made  man,  grave  and  silent;  and  differed 
from  his  followers    only  in  wearing  a  heavy,  white 
bone  necklace,  with  a  pouch  of  tobacco  hangiug  at 
the  back  of  his  neck.     He  was  entertained  with  the 
best  the  poor  colonists  had  to  offer ;  but,  in  spite  of 
his  gracious  reception,  he  trembled  like  a  leaf,  while 
in  such  close  proximity  to  the  governor.     This  inter- 
view resulted  in  a  long-kept  treaty,  and  was  followed 
by  frequent  exchanges  of  friendly  visits  and  services. 
Soon  after  this  league,  one  of  Massasoit's  sachems 
and  a  few  disaffected  ones,  threatened  to  unite  with 
the  N'arragansets,  against  the  English.     It  was  ru- 
mored that  he  had  killed  Tisquantum,  who  was  called 
"  the  tongue  of  the  English,"  as  he  was  their  princi- 
pal interpreter.     To  rescue  him,  if  he  yet  lived,  and 


MILES   STANDISH.  293 

to  ascertain  what  had  occurred  to  Massasoit,  who,  ac- 
cording to  report,  was  in  the  power  of  his  enemies, 
a  company  of  ten  men  was  selected  by  Captain  Stan- 
dish  and  marched  to  the  neio:hborhood  of  the  rebel 
sachem.  They  concealed  themselves  till  midnight, 
and  then  surrounded  the  house  of  the  chieftain.  A 
few  entered  and  demanded  Coubitant,  the  rebel  and 
supposed  murderer,  to  be  delivered  to  them,  promis- 
ing none  other  should  be  harmed,  and  endeavoring 
to  calm  the  fears  of  the  women  and  children.  The 
Indians  were  dumb  with  fear,  and  attempted  to  es- 
cape. They  were  retained  until  the  house  was 
searched,  but  Coubitant  was  not  to  be  found.  Tis- 
quantum  was  shown  unharmed,  and  in  the  morning 
the  colonists  returned,  after  assuring  the  savages  that 
if  Coubitant  and  his  men  should  continue  theii 
threats,  or  not  permit  Massasoit's  safe  restoration  to 
his  domains,  ''  there  was  no  place  should  secure  him 
and  his  from  revenge  and  overthrow."  Coubitant 
was  intimidated  and  soon  signed  a  treaty  of  peace. 
He  was  equally  impelled  to  seek  peace  with  the  En- 
glish because  of  an  assurance  from  Squanto,  that  they 
had  the  plague  buried  in  the  store-house,  and  could 
send  it  among  the  Indians  whenever  they  chose.  He 
had  seen  the  gunpowder  buried  there. 

While  Standish  engaged,  fi'om  time  to  time,  in  bold 
exploits,  which  made  his  very  name  a  terror  among 
the  Indians,  he  did  not  forget  a  gentler  tenor  of  life, 
but  wooed  another  wife  to  his  cheerful  fireside.  It 
is  amusingly  related  of  him,  that  his  affections  were 


294  DISCOYEEEES   AND   PIONEERS    OF    A^IERICA. 

gained  by  a  daughter  of  William  Mullins,  named 
Priscilla,  but  that  he  was  unwilling  to  make  the  ne- 
cessary proposal,  and  deputed  his  friend,  John  Alden, 
to  make  the  dreaded  overtures.  "  The  messenger, 
though  a  Pilgrim,  was  young  and  comely,  and  the 
lad}^,  with  perfect  naivete,  expressed  her  preference 
by  the  question, 

'  Prithee,  John,  why  do  you  not  speak  for  your- 
self f  ' 

The  captain's  hopes  were  blasted,  and  the  frank 
proceeding  soon  ended  in  the  marriage  of  John  Al- 
den and  Priscilla  Mullins."  Whether  Captain  Stan- 
dish  forgave  this  usurpation  or  not,  he  consoled  him- 
self soon  afterwards  by  marrying  a  lady  whose  name, 
other  than  Barbara,  is  not  given,  and  who  had  lately 
arrived  in  the  ship  Ann.  This  marriage  occurred 
within  two  years  after  the  death  of  Rose,  as  in  the 
assignment  of  lands  in  1623,  the  name  of  Mrs.  Stau- 
dish  is  on  the  list. 

In  1622,  the  fortifications  of  Plymouth  were  com- 
pleted, and  a  militia  company  completely  organized. 
The  fort,  which  also  served  as  a  place  of  worshij^,  was 
built  upon  a  hill  that  overlooked  the  town  and  the 
harbor,  with  its  wooded  and  rocky  islands,  and  the 
range  of  dark  pine  forest  ridging  up  from  the  sea  on 
the  south-east.  The  fort  and  its  Sabbath  uses,  are 
well  described  in  a  letter  (found  in  the  archives  of  the 
Hague)  by  one  who  was  at  Plymouth  in  1627.  "  The 
f^rt,"  says  the  letter,  "is  a  large,  square  house,  with 
a  flat  roof,  made  of  thick,  sawn  planks,  stayed  with 


MILES   STANDISn.  295 

oak  beams,  upon  the  top  of  wliicli  tliey  have  six  can- 
nons, which  shoot  iron  balls  of  four  or  five  pounds, 
and  command  the  surrounding  country.  The  lower 
part  they  use  for  their  church,  where  they  preach  on 
Sundays,  and  the  usual  holidays.  They  assemble  by 
beat  of  drum,  each  with  his  musket  or  firelock,  in 
front  of  the  captain's  door ;  they  have  their  cloaks 
on,  and  place  themselves  in  order,  three  abreast,  and 
are  led  by  a  sergeant,  without  beat  of  drum.  Behind 
comes  the  governor,  in  a  long  robe  ;  beside  him,  on 
the  right  hand,  comes  the  preacher  with  his  cloak  on, 
and  on  the  left  hand  the  captain,  with  his  side-arms, 
and  cloak  on,  and  with  a  small  cane  in  his  hand  — 
and  so  they  march  in  good  order,  and  each  sets  his 
arms  down  near  him.  Thus  they  are  on  their  guard, 
night  and  day." 

In  the  spring  of  1623,  Standish  was  engaged  in  a 
trading  voyage  near  Barnstable.  While  in  the  har 
bor,  a  violent  storm  obliged  him  and  his  party  to  take 
shelter  in  the  huts  of  the  savages.  The  suspicious 
movements  of  the  latter  induced  him  to  keep  watch, 
permitting  only  part  of  his  men  to  rest  at  once.  In 
the  morning,  several  things  were  ascertained  to  have 
been  stolen  from  the  shallop.  With  his  usual  resolu- 
tion and  promptness,  Standish  immediately  surround- 
ed sachem  lanough's  house  with  his  force  of  six  men,, 
and  demanded  restitution.  The  articles  were  re- 
stored, and  the  English  continued  their  trafiic  without 
further  molestation.  By  exercising  this  fearlessness 
and   decision,  in  his  intercourse  with   the   Indians, 


296  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

Standisli  secured  their  submission,  and  kept  tliem  i^ 
awe ;  but  even  such  a  course  would  have  failed  to 
save  the  colonists,  had  they  not  at  the  same  time  ex- 
hibited a  strict  integrity  and  Christian  forbearance. 
The  savages  instinctively  felt  this  superiority  of  the 
Pilgrims.  Their  intercourse,  however,  with  the  un- 
principled and  reckless  colony  at  Weymouth,  lately 
established  there  by  Weston,  served  to  create  a  deep 
hostility  towards  every  pale-face  on  their  shores. 

Their  plot  of  extirpating  the  English,  by  uniting 
all  the  tribes  of  Massachusetts  Bay  against  them,  was 
upon  the  point  of  execution  when  discovered  to  the 
Plymouth  colony.  The  kindness  and  soothing  atten- 
tions of  the  good  and  brave  Edward  Winslow,  sent 
by  the  Pilgrim  settlers  to  visit  Massasoit  in  his  sick- 
ness, won  the  gratitude,  and  warmed  the  heart  of  the 
rude  savage,  and  turned  him  from  his  purpose  of  sanc- 
tioning the  massacre.  "  ITow  I  see  the  English  are 
my  friends,  and  love  me,"  said  he,  when  Winslow  left 
him.  "  While  I  live,  I  will  never  forget  this  kind- 
ness they  have  shown  me."  Habbamock,  the  Indian 
guide  and  friend  of  the  settlers,  was  with  Winslow. 
Massasoit  called  him  and  revealed  the  plot,  secretly 
bidding  him  to  warn  the  Pilgrims.  With  what  hasty 
steps  the  good  Winslow,  and  the  faithful  guide,  trav- 
ersed the  forest,  and  how  gladly  they  beheld  the  little 
village,  with  its  peaceful  aspect !  What  commotion 
in  the  assembled  court,  w^hen  the  two  entered  with 
the  tidings  !  It  was  the  yearly  court-day,  the  twen- 
ty-third of  March,  1623,  and  the  colonists  wert  ready 


MILES    STANDISH.  297 

to  discuss  prompt  measures.  It  was  decided  "  that 
Captam  Standish  should  take  as  many  men  as  he 
thought  sufficient  to  make  his  pai'tj  good  against  all 
the  Indians  in  the  Massachusetts  Bay ;  and  because 
it  was  impossible  to  deal  with  them  in  open  defiance, 
to  take  them  in  such  traps  as  they  lay  for  others." 
He  was  ordered,  also,  to  bring  back  the  head  of  Wit- 
tuwamat,  a  "  bold'  and  bloody  villain,"  who  was  one 
of  the  chief  conspirators. 

Standish  selected  eight  men,  and  went  first  to  A7es- 
ton's  colony,  to  ascertain  the  certainty  of  the  Indians' 
hostility.  A  few  came  to  trade  with  him,  and  dis- 
covered "  by  his  eyes  that  he  was  angry  in  his  heart." 
Others  came  and  whetted  their  knives  before  his  flice. 
Wittuwamat  bragged  of  the  excellence  of  his  knife, 
saying,  '' By-ancl-ly  it  should  see,  ly-and-ly  it  shoidd 
eat,  hut  not  siKokP  Another  giant  savage  looked  con- 
temptuously upon  Standish,  telling  him,  "Thouo-h 
you  are  a  great  captain,  yet  you  are  but  a  little  man  ; 
though  I  be  no  sachem,  1  am  a  man  of  great  strength 
and  courage."  The  hot-tempered  captain  bore  it  with 
patience  then,  but  the  next  day  half  a  dozen  of  the 
most  hostile  Indians,  including  Wittuwamat  and  the 
hostile  giant,  were  accidentally  shut  in  the  room  with 
Standish  and  his  eight  men.  Standish  "gave  the 
word  to  his  m.en,"  and  instantly  the  parties  wero 
Struggling,  hand  to  hand,  with  their  deadly  knives. 
Standish,  probably  not  without  a  feeling  of  revenge 
for  the  sneer  of  yester(Jay  upon  his  stature,  himself 
gave  the  powerful  Indian  his  death-stroke.  The  rest 
M* 


208         DISCO VEREKS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

killed  Wlttuwamut  and  another  man,  and  a  third  was 
hun^.  The  party  of  Indians  in  the  neighborhood 
were  put  to  flight,  after  a  short  skirmish,  and  the  col- 
onists returned  to  Weston's  people  unharmed.  Hab- 
bamock  exulted  over  the  victory,  smiling,  as  he  said 
to  Captain  Standish,  "Yesterday  Pecksnot  bragged 
of  his  own  strength  and  stature,  .  .  to-day  you 
are  big  enough  to  lay  him  on  the  ground." 

Corn  was  distributed  among  the  famishing  colo- 
nists of  Weymouth,  though  it  took  from  the  seed-corn 
of  the  Pilgrims,  and  many  of  them  were  received  into 
the  shallop  and  conveyed  to  Plymouth.  Thus  good 
was  returned  for  the  evil  they  had  rendered  to  their 
neighbors.  The  head  of  Wittuwamut  was  conveyed 
to  Plymouth,  and  set  up  on  the  fort.  The  whole 
transaction,  though  often  a  matter  of  censure,  was 
conducted  with  such  decision,  soldierly  intrepidity, 
and  exact  obedience  to  orders,  that  it  inspired  the  In- 
dians with  terror  for  the  very  name  of  Standish,  and 
at  once  checked  every  hostile  movement.  However 
revolting  or  murderous  seemed  the  act,  it  was  far 
better  to  execute  the  ring-leaders,  than  to  engage  in 
a  war  which  must  have  proved  disastrous  to  the  Pil- 
grims, and  sacrificed  a  far  greater  number  of  the 
heathen  savages.  When  the  account  reached  Mr. 
Kobinson,  at  Leyden,  he  wrote,  that  "  it  would  have 
been  happy  if  they  had  converted  some  before  they 
had  killed  any."  But  the  Pilgrims  were  too  much 
occupied  with  their  sufferings  and  their  dangers,  to 
think  of  carrying  the  tidings  of  a  Saviour  among  their 


MILES    STANDISn.  299 

enemies.  ISTeither  did  they  seem  to  think  the  savages 
capable  of  comprehending  sacred  truths.  The  work 
was  left  for  Eliot  and  Williams, 

In  1625,  Standish  went  to  England,  as  an  agent  for 
the  colony,  but  arrived  at  a  time  when  London  was 
desolated  by  the  plague.  Business  was  suspended, 
and  the  members  of  the  JSTew  England  Council  were 
scattered.  He  could  do  nothing  but  procure  neces- 
sary goods  for  the  colony,  and  return,  bearing  w^ith 
him  the  sad  tidings  of  Robinson's  death.  This  event 
was  the  more  deplored,  by  the  colony,  because  they 
had  yearly  hoped  for  his  arrival,  and,  with  that  ex- 
pectation, had  provided  themselves  with  no  pastor. 
Brewster  officiated  in  that  capacity,  but  they  needed 
the  guidance  of  the  fervent  Robinson.  It  is  refresh- 
ing to  note  the  vigor  and  faithfulness  with  which  the 
Sabbath  and  all  religious  observances  were  kept,  des- 
pite the  prolonged  separation  from  their  pastor,  when 
compared  with  the  weakness,  the  falling  away,  that 
attends  the  same  circumstances  in  this  age  of  security 
and  comfort. 

In  his  latest  letters,  Mr.  Robinson  urged  the  col- 
onists to  "  consider  the  disposition  of  the  captain,  who 
was  of  a  warm  temper.  He  hoped  the  Lord  had  sent 
him  among  them  for  good,  if  they  used  him  right." 
In  this  they  were  rightly  warned,  for  the  vigorous 
captain  had  little  patience  with  the  slow  measures  of 
prudence.  But  he  was  so  ready  to  risk  himself  in 
any  hazardous  enterprise,  of  whatever  nature,  so  suc' 
cessfully  inspired  the  drooping  colonists  with  courage, 


SOO         DISCOVEEEllS    AND    TIONEEKS    OF    AMEKICA. 

and  observed  the  orders  given  him  with  such  strict 
fidelity,  on  all  occasions,  that  they  could  not  but  re- 
pose confidence  in  him,  as  a  leader.  Kesolute, 
prompt,  and  exacting  the  same  integrity  and  fidelity 
from  others  which  he  himself  never  failed  to  render, 
he  secured  the  love  and  trust  of  his  fellow-Pilgrims, 
and  filled  the  Indians  with  fear  and  admiration  of  his 
intrepid  gallantry.  ''  If  the  arm  of  flesh  were  neces- 
sary," says  Dr.  Belknap,  "  to  establish  the  rights, 
and  defend  the  lives,  and  protect  the  property  of  col- 
onists in  a  new  country,  surrounded  with  enemies  and 
false  friends,  certainly  such  a  man  as  Standi sh,  with 
all  his  imperfections,  will  hold  a  high  rank  am  )ng 
the  worthies  of  l^ew-England." 

The  colonists  signified  their  esteem  and  confidence, 
by  appointing  him  one  of  the  magistrates  of  Plymouth, 
as  long  as  he  lived.  And,  although  advanced  in 
years,  he  was,  in  1615,  appointed  to  command  the 
Plymouth  troops  against  the  ^Narragansets,  and,  in 
1653,  when  hostilities  with  the  Dutch,  in  Manhattan, 
were  anticipated,  he  was  one  of  a  council  of  war,  and 
received  the  command  of  the  troops  intended  for  the 
service.  Thus,  in  spite  of  the  infirmities  of  old  age, 
Standish  continued  active  in  the  employment  of  the 
colony. 

His  winters  were  spent  in  Plymouth,  but  Diixbury 
was  his  summer  home.  lie  was  one  of  the  first  set- 
tlers of  the  town,  which  now  straorecles  alon^::  the 
shore  for  several  miles.  lie  lived  at  the  foot  of  a 
summit,  still  known  as  Captain's  Hill,  which  rises 


MILES    6TANDISH.  301 

some  two  liimdred  and  fifty  feet  above  tlie  level  of 
the  sea,  and  commands  a  complete  view  of  Plymouth 
Bay.  Far  out  in  the  bay,  opposite  Duxbury,  a  strip 
of  drifting  sand  sweeps  from  the  north,  interposing 
a  barrier  against  the  thundering  surges  of  the  At- 
lantic. Clumps  of  cedars,  here  and  there,  relieve  its 
barrenness,  and  wild  bushes  fringe  the  low  sand-hills 
that  face  the  harbor.  Between  this  interposing  beach 
and  the  main-land,  lies  the  green,  rounded  island, 
which  first  felt  the  pressure  of  the  Pilgrims'  steps,  and 
which  Standish  could  always  look  out  upon,  whether 
it  rose  in  summer  luxuriance  from  the  lake-like  har 
bor,  or  whether  it  wore  an  icicled  robe,  as  when  he 
first  beheld  it.  He  must  have  marked  it  gladly  from 
his  quiet  home,  so  long  as  his  dimming  eyes  could  be- 
hold it,  and,  if  he  had  learned  anything  of  godly  life, 
in  his  long  sojourn  with  the  Pilgrims,  he  must  have 
praised  God  while  he  gazed  upon  it,  and  recounted 
the  providences  that  had  signally  followed  them  from 
their  earliest  coming,  and  preserved  them  through 
famine,  war,  and  disease,  till  the  germ  of  civilization 
was  rooted  and  nourished  into  a  lithe  young  sapling. 
What  holy  joy  would  they  feel,  could  they  now  be- 
hold it  towering  into  the  great  tree  of  liberty ;  its 
branches,  banyan-like,  rooted  to  the  very  shores  of 
the  Pacific,  and  dropping  its  golden  fruit  in  the  laps 
of  the  many  sister  states  of  a  continent !  Would  that 
the  frrat  which  is  fair  without  and  bitterness  within, 
were  nowhere  gathered  from  its  branches  ! 

Standish  died  in  1656,  leaving  three   sons  and  a 


502  DISCOVEKERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMEIilCA. 

daiigliter,  whose  descendants  chiefly  reside  in  the 
county  of  Plymouth.  One  of  his  grandsons  preserv- 
ed his  coat  of  mail  for  some  time,  but  it  is  now  sup- 
posed to  be  lost.  His  sword,  an  iron  pot,  and  a  pew- 
ter dish,  are  the  only  articles  of  his  that  remain 
amono^  the  treasured  relics  of  the  PilOTims.  A  me- 
mento  of  his  daughter  is  with  them — a  faded  sampler, 
upon  which  is  traced,  with  skillful  needlework,  ti^-ese 
characteristic  and  quaint  lines 

"Lorea  Standisli  is  my  name. 
Lord,  guide  my  heart  that  I  may  do  thy  will : 
Also  fill  my  hands  with  such  convenient  skill. 
As  may  conduce  to  virtue  void  of  shame ; 
And  I  will  give  the  glory  to  thy  name." 

These  relics  are  enough  to  bring  to  the  eye  the 
stout  Miles  Standish,  with  his  honest,  yet  determined 
countenance,  his  gentle,  pious  daughter,  and  her  pu- 
ritanic companions,  and  the  strong  band  of  Pilgrims, 
as  they  suffer  and  rejoice  together ;  as  they  fast  with 
tears  and  prayers  of  faith ;  as  they  feast  upon  the 
homely  fare  on  the  yearly  Thanksgiving ;  singing 
hymns  of  praise  in  the  barricaded  meeting-house,  or 
sternly  warning  back  their  enemies;  joying  at  the 
first  bridals,  or  weeping  over  the  many  dead.  We 
see  the  remaining  fifty  bravely  struggling  with  accu- 
mulated sorrows  ;  we  watch  them  drop  away  one  af- 
ter another,  when  the  work  for  which  God  had 
brought  them  there,  is  finished.  We  see  the  well- 
tried  and  upright  Winslow,  Bradford,  with  his  crown 


MILES    STANDISn.  303 

of  honorable  years,  and  tlie  valorous  Standisli,  go  to 
the  grave  almost  together.  And,  at  last,  we  behold 
twelve  lingering  upon  the  borders  of  eternity,  long 
enough  to  perceive  the  prophetic  signs  of  a  great  and 
free  nation,  and  then  we  note  the  fall  of  one  and  an- 
other, and  another,  till  the  last  link  between  the  olden 
time  and  the  new  is  broken.  There  they  all  lie,  now, 
upon  the  Plymouth  hills,  where  their  anthems  of 
praise  rang  uj),  and  echoed  in  the  wilderness.  ]^or 
least  among  them  is  their  brave  leader,  who,  as  is 
said  by  an  old  historian,  "  chose  to  suffer  affliction 
with  the  people  of  God  ;  who,  through  faith,  subdued 
kingdoms,  wrought  righteousness,  obtained  promises, 
stopped  the  mouths  of  lions,  waxed  valiant  in  fight, 
and  turned  to  flio-ht  the  armies  of  the  aliens."  To 
the  last,  he  was  the  firm,  steadfast  friend  and  protec- 
tor of  the  Plymouth  colonists,  and,  as  such,  his  name 
iescends  with  honor  to  posterity. 


vm. 

LADY  ARABELLA  JOHNSON. 

A  SHINING  and  delicate  sliell,  cast  by  the  surges  of 
ocean  upon  some  bleak  shore  ;  a  tropical  plant  of  rare 
beauty,  flowering  and  fading  amidst  the  snows  of  the 
wintry  north  ;  a  diamond,  or  a  drop  of  gold,  gleam- 
ing among  the  stern  rocks  of  a  lofty  sierra  —  are  em- 
blems of  the  life  of  high-born  Arabella,  tossed,  as  it 
was,  upon  the  tide  of  Time's  commotion,  and  trans- 
ferred from  the  luxurious  scenes  of  her  childhood  to 
the  companionship  of  heroical  Pilgrims,  and  the  chill 
hardships  of  a  New  England  settlement.  The  records 
of  her  life  are  few  and  scattered ;  but  enough  may  be 
gathered  to  present  a  beautiful  contrast  of  grace  and 
loveliness,  with  the  rugged  simplicity  of  colonial  ad- 
venture. Her  name  is  a  monument  of  the  power  of 
domestic  affection  and  religious  principle  over  all  the 
attractions  of  refinement,  of  proud  position,  and  the 
ties  of  blood,  on  the  one  hand,  and,  on  the  other,  the 
triumph  of  these  princijDles  over  all  feminine  dread  of 
perils  of  the  sea,  and  of  a  strange  wilderness,  made 
doubly  fearful  by  the  supposed  ferocity  of  its  savage 
inhabitants. 


LA.DY   ARABELLA   JOHNSON.  005 

In  Nottingliamsliire,  between  tlie  Trent  and  tlie 
Eyre,  with  the  flats  of  Lincolnshire  on  the  one  side, 
and  the  Derbyshire  hills  on  the  other,  is  the  region 
of  the  ancient,  royal  forest  of  Sherwood.  But  few 
of  the  old  oaks  that  sheltered  Robin  Hood  and  his 
merry  foresters,  remain  ;  those  few  stretch  their  knot- 
ted limbs  over  the  smoothly-shorn  lawns  of  the  wide 
parks,  into  which  that  storied  and  historical  region  is 
divided.  The  ancient  road,  where  the  green  archers 
waylaid  sordid  friars  and  portly  arch-bishops,  still  re- 
tains its  old  w^indings,  with  a  new  title  —  "  the  Duke 
ries ''  —  so  named,  because  it  is  bordered  by  the  am 
pie  domains  of  seven  of  England's  proudest  nobles. 
Clumber  Park,  one  of  these  broad  estates,  is  the 
family  seat  of  the  Lincolns,  or  Dukes  of  J^ewcastle. 
The  first  earldom  of  Lincoln  was  bestowed  by  Queen 
Elizabeth  upon  Lord  Clinton,  then  High  Admiral. 
Tlie  third  inheritor  of  the  title,  was  the  father  of  Lady 
Arabella.  The  fifth  died  without  heirs,  and  the 
estates  and  earldom  passed  to  a  cousin,  Francis  Clin- 
ton, whose  grandson.  Sir  Henry,  engaged  as  General 
in  the  American  war  of  the  Revolution,  and  distin- 
guished himself,  in  the  eyes  of  the  British,  by  the 
capture  of  Charlestown,  and  more,  in  the  eyes  of 
Americans,  by  the  evacuation  of  Philadelphia.  The 
ninth  Earl  received  the  additional  title  of  Duke  of 
Newcastle,  and  was  appointed  keeper  of  Sherwood 
Forest. 

It  may  be  inferred  that,  in  this  region  of  romance, — 
within  sight  of  the  battle-fields  of  the  rival  Eoses, 

20 


306         DISCO  V^EREES    AND    PIONEEKS    OF    AMERICA. 

where  many  a  clump  of  the  famous  forest  yet  crowned 
the  unleveled  knolls,  summoning  to  tlie  wanderer's 
fancy  the  whole  troop  of  green-coated  archers,  busy 
with  their  feasts  or  plots  under  the  deep  shade  —  in 
a  refrion,  fertile  and  beautiful,  broidered  with  the  cur- 
ving  Trent,  the  silvery  Eyre,  and  the  soft-named  Dove 
and  Idle,  and  picturesque  in  the  many  monastic 
ruins,  dismantled  castles,  and  far  reaching  views  of 
old,  walled  towns,  with  their  crumbling  fortresses  and 
towers  —  in  a  home,  luxurious  in  its  immediate  scenes 
of  gardens,  groves,  and  smoothly  aisled  parks,  and 
far  more  beautiful  in  its  interior  life  of  affection  and 
piety  —  the  Lady  Arabella  was  tenderly  reared. 

The  laro^e  household  of  the  Earl  of  Lincoln  was 
eminently  a  pious  one.  The  parade  of  nobility  and 
the  frivolity  of  wealth,  could  have  entered  but  little 
into  the  home-life  of  a  family  from  which  came  two 
of  New  England's  first  magistrates,  and  another,  in 
whose  name  the  Pilgrims'  first  patent  was  taken  out ; 
a  family  from  which  two  delicately  bred  daughters 
were  permitted  to  go  forth  to  endure  the  trials  of  the 
~Nqw  World,  as  the  wives  of  pious  and  untitled  men, 
and  who,  with  their  fourteen  or  fifteen  brothers  and 
sisters,  had  been,  from  their  birth,  under  the  guidance 
and  nurture  of  a  conscientious  mother.  The  Countess 
of  Lincohi  published  a  work,  condemning  the  unnat- 
ural course  of  mothers  of  her  rank  ;  and,  to  exemplify 
her  sentiments,  nourished  the  infancy  of  her  children. 
She  guarded  their  develoj^ment  of  character,  with  her 
prayers  and  tender  admonitions.     It  is  easy  to  believe, 


LADY   ARABELLA   JOHNSON. 


307 


even  were  there  no  proofs,  that  she  reaped  the  pre- 
cious fruits  of  her  faithfuhiess,  and  that  her  large 
household  was  pervaded  by  the  ruling  spirit  of  Chris- 
tian love. 

Both  the  Earl  and  the  Countess  sympathized  with 
the  Pilgrims  in  their  desire  to  emigrate  to  Am.erica. 
Mr.  John  Wincob,  a  gentleman  of  the  family,  was 
engaged  in  obtaining  a  patent  for  the  Leyden  exiles, 
and  succeeded,  in  1619,  although  the  grant  was  not 
made  use  of,  owing  to  their  unexpected  debarkation 
on  the  shore  of  Plymouth.  America  was  then  made 
an  exhaustless  theme  at  the  fireside  of  the  Lincolns. 
The  recent  discoveries  there,  the  retreat  it  offered  from 
religious  persecution,  its  wild  beauty,  as  pictured  by 
Ealeigh,  its  fertility  and  attractions,  as  represented  by 
Hudson,  and  its  strange,  savage  possessors,  were  all 
freely  discussed  by  tlie  guests  of  the  castle,  and  with 
deep  interest  by  the  family,  since  one  of  their  at- 
taches was  about  to  test  the  advantages  and  terrors 
of  the  New  World. 

The  death  of  the  Earl,  in  1619,  withdrew,  for  a 
time,  the  attention  of  the  Countess  to  the  family  du- 
ties, which  more  signally  devolved  upon  her  in  her 
widowhood,  together  with  the  hospitalities  incumbent 
tiDon  her,  as  the  dowa2;er  of  a  noble  house.  Tlie 
young  Earl  and  his  bride,  the  daughter  of  Lord  Say, 
now  bore  the  honors  of  the  succession.  Put  there 
was  not  one  of  the  household  so  precious,  or  so  con- 
soling to  the  bereaved  Countess,  as  the  gentle,  tender- 
hearted Arabella.     Her  remarkable  loveliness  of  per- 


308        DISCOVERERS   AKlJ    PIONEEES   OF   AJ^IEKICA. 

son,  as  well  as  of  character,  lier  briglit,  glad  temper- 
ament, that  threw  sunshine  in  the  way  of  the  surliest, 
and  her  unaffected  piety,  of  the  hopeful,  active  kind, 
had  especially  endeared  her  to  her  father.  He  had 
entertained  ambitious  hopes  of  seeing  her  united  with 
one  of  rank  and  power,  and  filling  a  station  suited  to 
her  unusual  grace  and  beauty.  But,  taught  by  her 
mother  to  revere  strength  of  soul  and  purity  of  char- 
acter, more  than  mere  position,  it  was  natural  that 
she  should  yield  her  hand  to  an  untitled  lover,  who 
embodied  her  high  ideal,  rather  than  sacrifice  her 
happiness  to  ambition. 

The  one  who  aspired  to  this  honorable  marriage 
was  Isaac  Johnson,  a  gentleman  connected  with  fam- 
ilies of  high  rank,  but  who  had  no  title  in  possession 
or  expectancy.  He  had  fine  estates  on  the  sloping- 
hills  of  Rutland,  in  the  meadows  of  N'orthampton, 
and  upon  the  wolds  of  Lincolnshire.  Which  of  the 
estates  was  enlivened  by  the  manor-house,  the  some- 
time home  of  Arabella,  is  not  recorded. 

Mr.  Johnson  has  been  described  as  a  "  contempla- 
tive character,  serious  in  his  deportment,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  thought  on  his  mild  countenance,  which 
the  beholder,  at  first  glance,  would  have  termed  sad- 
ness. Yet  his  heart  was  warm  and  frank  ;  and,  when 
in  intercourse  with  his  friends,  he  threw  ofi'  the  re- 
serve, which  proceeded  more  from  dejjth  of  feeling 
than  a  want  of  sympathy  with  his  fellow-creatures, 
few  were  so  agreeable,  or  so  beloved  in  society  as 
this  amiable  man."    The  same  attraction  that  made 


-LADY   ARABELLA   JOHNSON.  309 

Mr.  Johnson  tlie  idol  of  the  company  with  whom  he 
emigrated,  won  his  guileless  bride.  The  doting  father 
could  ofler  no  obstacle,  and  the  good  mother  could 
desire  nothing  better  for  her  best-loved  daughter,  than 
to  see  her  the  wife  of  a  man  of  refinement,  cheerful 
piety,  generous  sympathies,  and  devoted  affection  — 
an  affection  so  entwined  with  the  very  existence  of 
Arabella,  that  he  could  not  live  without  her,  but 
mourned  himself  to  the  grave  in  one  short  month, 
after  she  had  found  her  resting-place  upon  the  shores 
of  ISTew  England. 

The  earl's  consent  to  the  marriage  had  been  given, 
and,  the  year  following  his  death,  Arabella  was  uni- 
ted to  Mr.  Johnson.  Several  years  of  tranquil  hap- 
piness passed  in  their  new  home.  The  interest  which 
both,  for  a  long  time,  had  felt  in  the  success  of  the 
Pilgrims,  was  heightened,  from  time  to  time,  by  ac- 
counts from  America.  These,  though  setting  forth 
the  hardships  and  the  novelties  of  their  new,  free  life, 
made  little  or  no  mention  of  the  severer  sufferings, 
and  the  mortality  among  them.  Many  of  the  perse- 
cuted Puritans  still  remained  in  England,  longing  to 
join  the  pioneer  band  at  Plymouth,  but  were  too  poor 
to  meet  the  necessary  expenses.  Now  and  then,  a 
ship  was  chartered,  and  a  few  hastened  over  to  re- 
lieve and  to  augment  the  colony.  The  self-denial 
and  the  sufferinsrs  of  these  brave  settlers,  awakened 

CD  ^ 

all  of  Mr.  Johnson's  sympathy  and  admiration,  for  he 
was  a  Puritan,  though  with  less  of  staid  strictnesa 
than  prevailed  among  the  Independents.     His  con< 


3-10  DISCO YEKERS    AI^D   PIONEERS    OF   A^IERICA. 

nection  with  powerful  families  had  shielded  him  from 
persecution,  but  he  could  not  remain  silent  and  inac- 
tive, while  he  noted  the  privations  of  the  colonists, 
nor  look  with  pleasure  or  peace  upon  his  ample  pos- 
sessions, and  know  the  poverty  of  those  who  suffered 
for  religion's  sake. 

The  experiment  of  Robert,  son  of  Sir  Ferdinando 
Georges,  and  who  had  lately  married  Lady  Arabella's 
sister,  Frances,  made  little  difference  with  Mr.  John- 
son's purpose.  Sir  Kobert  went  to  Plymouth  in  1623, 
with  a  commission  of  o-overnor-o-eneral  of  Isew  Eno;- 
land  •  he  returned  in  a  few  months,  "  finding  the  state 
of  things  did  not  answer  his  quality  and  condition.'* 
In  1628,  a  plan  was  proposed,  which  finally  enlisted 
Mr.  Johnson  as  one  of  the  settlers  of  Xew  England. 
The  indefatigable  exertions  of  Mr.  White,  a  minister 
of  Dorchester,  engaged  many  of  the  noblest  and  wor- 
thiest peoj)le  of  England,  in  a  project  to  "establish  a 
plantation  of  '  the  best '  of  their  countrymen  on  the 
shores  of  !N'ew  England,  in  a  safe  seclusion,  where  the 
corruj^tions  of  human  superstition  might  never  in- 
vade." A  grant  of  territory  was  obtained  from  the 
council  of  Plymouth,  which  designated  "a  belt  of 
land  stretching  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  ex- 
tending three  miles  south  of  the  Kiver  Charles  and 
Massachusetts  Bay,  and  three  miles  north  of  every 
part  of  the  River  Merrimac."  "Winthrop,  Dudley, 
Endicot,  Pellingham,  Johnson,  and  Ilumfrej^^  were 
among  the  undertakers  of  the  enterprise.  Mi.  John- 
son possessed  the  largest  means,  and  held  the  largest 


LADY    AKABELLA    JOHNSON.  311 

share  in  tlie  compact.  John  Hnmfrej  was  allied  to 
him  by  marriage  with  Susan,  a  second  sister  of  Lady 
Arabella. 

That  she  was  to  be  accompanied  by  a  sister,  did 

much  to  enliven  the  prospect  of  emigration,  to  Ara- 

ella.     She  was  actuated  by  the  same  religious  zeal 

hich  prompted  Mr.  Johnson  ;  and  her  love  for  him 
would  have  carried  her  willingly  to  the  end  of  the 
earth.  She  might  have  echoed  the  language  of  the 
Spanish  lady,  who,  as  described  by  Peter  Martyr, 
"  perceiving  her  husband  now  furnishing  himself  to 
depart  to  the  unknown  coasts  of  the  Kew  World,  and 
those  large  tracts  of  land  and  sea,  spake  these  words 
unto  him  :  '  Whithersoever  your  fatal  destiny  shall 
lead  you,  either  by  the  furious  waves  of  the  great 
ocean,  or  by  the  manifold  and  horrible  dangers  of  the 
land,  I  will  surely  bear  you  company.  There  can  no 
peril  chance  to  nie  so  terrible,  nor  any  kind  of  death 
so  cruel,  that  shall  not  be  much  easier  to  abide,  than 
to  live  so  far  separate  from  you.' "  With  this  same 
strong,  beautiful  devotion,  the  Lady  Arabella  clung 
to  her  husband  ;  not  deterring  him  Avith  tears  and  la- 
mentations, but,  inspired  by  holy  enthusiasm,  urging 
him  to  fulfill  his  Christian  purpose.  With  her  hand 
pledged  in  his,  she  may  well  have  exclaimed,  with 
the  daughter  of  jSTaomi :  "Whither  thou  goest,  I  will 
go  ;  and  where  thou  lodgest,  I  will  lodge  ;  thy  people 
shall  be  my  people,  and  thy  God,  my  God  :  where 
thou  diest,  will  I  die,  and  there  will  I  be  buried." 

Assured  of  the  willingness  of  his  young  wife  t( 


312         DI&COYEREES    AUB   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

brave  the  dangers  of  the  wilderness,  Mr.  Johnson  sold 
his  estates,  and  made  preparations  for  a  new  home 
beyond  the  Atlantic.  Mr.  Endicot,  with  his  wife  and 
family,  and  those  whom  the  company  sent  with  him, 
first  sailed  for  Massachusetts  Bay,  and  commenced 
a  settlement  at  I^Taumkeag,  now  Salem.  By  the  re- 
turning ships,  they  sent  such  favorable  accounts  as 
hastened  and  encouraged  the  preparations  of  those 
about  to  follow.  In  the  course  of  the  summer  of 
1629,  seventeen  ships,  with  three  hundred  persons, 
were  sent  to  reenforce  the  new  colony.  In  the  spring 
of  1630,  another  fleet  of  ships  was  in  readiness  in  the 
port  of  Yarmouth. 

The  largest  vessel,  of  three  hundred  tons,  was 
named  the  Arabella,  in  honor  of  the  noble  lady  whom 
it  was  to  convey.  Thomas  Dudley  and  Mr.  Brad- 
street,  both  of  whom  had  held  the  office  of  steward, 
in  the  Earl  of  Lincoln's  family,  for  many  ^'■ears,  were 
among  the  passengers.  The  former  went  as  deputy- 
governor.  Some  occurrence  detained  Mr.  Humfrey 
and  his  wife,  to  the  severe  disappointment  of  Lady 
Arabella.  Governor  Winthrop  was  of  the  number, 
but  without  his  family,  who  were  to  join  him  the  fol- 
lowing 3^ear.  The  excitement  of  preparation  had  sus- 
tained the  spirits  of  the  party,  but  the  near  approach 
of  embarkation,  the  separation  from  friends,  and  the 
abandonment  of  their  native  land,  more  as  exiles  than 
as  emigrants,  filled  all  with  sadness.  The  evening 
before  the  departure,  the  governor  gave  a  feast  to  the 
company,  and  their  assembled  friends,  at  YarmDuth. 


LADY  AEABELLA  JOHNSON.  313 

While  drinking  to  the  health  of  those  left  behind,  he 
could  no  longer  contain  himself,  and  burst  into  tears. 
That  many  a  manly  heart  swelled  with  emotion,  and 
that  it  was  more  a  feast  of  sympathy,  of  tears,  of  love, 
of  encouragement,  than  a  relish  of  dainty  viands, 
those  know  best  who  have  felt  a  near,  and  perhaj)s 
eternal  parting,  from  the  best  loved,  while  gathered 
at  a  final  feast,  where  each  strove  to  hide  a  sad  and 
tearful  countenance  under  a  vail  of  smiles. 

On  the  morning  of  the  seventh  or  tenth  of  April, 
1629,  the  ships  sailed  from  Yarmouth,  and  arrived  at 
Salem,  June  12th.  The  two  months'  voyage  was  re- 
lieved of  much  of  its  tediousness  to  the  companions  of 
Lady  Arabella,  by  her  sweet  vivacity,  as  character- 
istic as  her  piety,  and  in  no  way  incompatible  with 
it.  To  such  a  temperament  as  hers,  the  inconvenien- 
ces and  annoyances  of  voyaging,  for  weeks,  in  a  close 
cabin,  in  common  with  many,  only  gave  occasion  for 
innocent  mirth,  that  whiled  away  the  discontent  of 
others.  Their  arrival  upon  the  shores  of  the  I^ew 
"World  had  nothing  chilling  or  repellent  in  it,  for  the 
sight  of  a  vast  wilderness,  rich  in  the  perfected  foliage 
of  June,  inspired  more  wonder  than  dread  ;  and  the 
hardships  of  the  new  life  were  too  vague  to  the  unin- 
itiated comers,  to  dishearten  or  alarm  them. 

The  ship  anchored  near  Baker's  Island.  Its  arrival 
was  immediately  welcomed  by  the  settlers,  who,  the 
year  previous,  had  cleared  the  forest  and  broken  the 
ground  for  their  coming.  Mr.  Endicot,  Mr.  Sheltou, 
and  Captain  Levit,  came  on  board  to  oflfer  a  warm 
N 


31-i        DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

greeting,  and  induced  the  governor,  his  assistants, 
and  "other  gentlemen  and  gentlewomen,"  to  return 
with  them  and  partake  of  their  rude,  but  kin^l  hospi- 
tality. Accordingly,  they  were  conveyed  to  the 
shore,  and  conducted  to  the  best  log  house  Salem 
could  afford,  where  "they  supped,"  says  Hubbard, 
"with  a  good  venison  pasty  and  good  beer."  The 
earl's  dausrhter,  hitherto  accustomed  to  the  refine- 
ments  of  a  princely  home,  must,  here,  in  the  low- 
walled,  ill-furnished  cabin,  have  felt  the  reality  of 
the  pilgrim's  life  ;  and,  whatever  charm  the  daring 
and  romance  of  the  undertaking  had,  in  the  eyes  of 
these  noble  men  and  women,  when  discussing  it  at 
their  English  iiresides,  it  must  have  vanished  as  they 
viewed  the  mud  and  log  hovels  of  Salem,  the  half- 
made  gardens,  and  the  small  clearings,  where  young 
corn  was  springing  among  dreary  groups  of  burnt 
stumps  and  upturned  roots.  That  the  trying  prospect 
before  them  did  not  utterly  dishearten  these  people, 
unused  to  privation  and  labor,  can  only  be  attributed 
to  the  firm  Christian  principles,  through  which  they 
were  strong,  hopeful  and  undaunted. 

Most  of  them  returned  to  the  ship,  after  the  hastily 
prepared  feast  in  their  honor,  "liking  their  supper 
better  than  the  lodging  which,  at  that  time,  could  be 
prepared  on  a  sudden,"  continues  Hubbard,  "  or  else 
that  they  might  leave  the  same  free  to  the  gentle- 
women  that  went  ashore  with  them,  who,  like  j^oah's 
dove,  finding  sure  footing  on  the  firm  land,  returned 
no  more  to  their  ark,  floating  on  the  unstable  waves." 


LADY   ARABELLA   JOnxSON.  312 

While  they  had  been  feasting  on  shore,  the  remainder 
of  the  ship's  companv,  dissatisfied  to  spend  the  af- 
ternoon of  the  day  in  idle  gazing  at  the  woods  and 
the  green  banks  and  hills,  landed  on  the  side  of  the 
harbor  opposi-te  Salem  and  towards  Cape  Ann.  There 
they  wandered  on  the  grassy  turf,  in  the  sunshine  and 
in  the  shade,  finding  that,  after  all,  earth  was  earth , 
and  trees  were  trees,  in  this  wonderful  'New  World 
and  that  the  elms  and  chestnuts  neither  grew  with 
their  tops  downward,  as  the  philosophers,  who  con- 
fronted Columbus,  asserted  must  be  the  case,  if  the 
earth  be  rotund  ;  nor  that  every  stone  "  promised  gold 
or  silver  by  his  complexion,"  as  had  been  declared  of 
some  portions  of  America.  New  England  was  vastly 
like  the  Old,  in  many  respects,  and,  if  in  this  the 
voyagers  w^ere  disappointed,  they  consoled  themselves 
by  gathering  wild  strawberries  upon  the  slopes,  and 
made  themselves  "  merry  as  the  gentlefolks  at  their 
venison  pasty  and  strong  beer." 

The  morning  after  the  arrival  of  the  company,  Mas- 
conorao.  Sagamore  of  Cape  Ann,  with  one  of  his 
chiefs,  paid  a  visit  of  welcome  to  the  governor,  on 
ship- board,  and  afforded  the  emigrants  a  first  and  pre- 
possessing sight  of  the  much  dreaded  savages.  Pre23- 
arations  were  made  the  same  day  for  removal  to  the 
shore,  although  the  position  of  Salem  was  not  liked 
by  the  movers  of  the  enterprise.  To  their  dismay, 
they  learned  that  the  colonists  had  scarcely  two  weeks' 
provision  among  them,  and  that  dependence  had  been 
placed  upon  the  new  arrival  for  a  supply.     The  pro- 


?»16         DISCOVERERS    AXD    PIONEERS   OF    A:MERICA. 

visioned  sliip  had  not  left  England  till  some  time  after 
the  Arabella.  Yet  the  demands  of  the  settlers  were 
urgent ;  for  many  Avere  weak  and  sick,  and  it  was 
farther  ascertained  that  eighty  of  their  number  had 
died  the  previous  winter.  The  sight  of  their  distress 
was  disheartening  enough  to  the  enthusiastic  men, 
who  had  come  with  the  expectation  only  of  prosper- 
ity. Disease,  famine,  and  death  stared  them  in  the 
face. 

To  share  with  them  the  provisions  which  each  had 
furnished  for  himself,  was  the  only  resource.  Mr. 
Johnson  set  the  benevolent  example,  and  his  wife 
cheerfully  parted  with  the  cordials  and  delicacies, 
which  her  thoughtful  mother  had  provided  for  her 
own  wants.  The  servants,  who  had  been  transported 
by  their  employers,  were  set  at  liberty  to  seek  the 
living  their  old  masters  could  not  afford  them.  So 
far  from  yielding  to  their  present  extremity,  or  be- 
wailing the  dej^ressing  prosjDect,  a  few  of  the  emi- 
grants formed  an  exploring  party,  to  seek  a  better 
site  for  a  settlement. 

"While  these  preparations  for  a  home  were  being 
hastened,  Mr.  Johnson  was  detained  at  Salem  by  the 
illness  of  Lady  Arabella.  A  severe  cold,  accompa- 
nied by  slow  fever,  was  the  result  of  exposures  which 
she  had  been  too  carefully  nurtured  to  meet.  The 
days  wore  on,  and  with  them  wore  away  her  strength, 
though  she  endeavored,  with  her  smiles  and  cheerful- 
ness, to  calm  the  evident  anxiety  of  her  husband,  and 
of  the  many  who  offered  kindness.     She  had  become 


LADT    ARAWSUuA   JOHNSON  317 

endeared  to  tlie  whole  colony;  there  was  not  one 
who  would  not  delight  to  yield  from  his  own  comfort 
whatever  would  contribute  to  hers.  But,  with  all  the 
watchfulness  and  care  of  those  who  loved  her,  there 
was  no  abateme-H  of  the  disease.  She  saw,  with 
calmness  and  patient  resignation,  that  she  must  die. 
But  one  regret  disturbed  her  peace,  and  that  was 
leaving  her  husband,  who,  she  well  knew,  would 
grieve  for  her  with  more  than  ordinary  grief.  He 
reproached  himself,  as  he  saw  her  fading  away,  strick- 
en by  the  trials  which  she  had  been  ready  to  share 
with  him.  But  his  love  and  tenderness  could  not 
countermand  the  summons  to  eternity.  He  could 
only  watch,  with  agonized  sadness,  at  her  bedside,  in 
the  small,  dimly  lighted  room  of  a  log  house,  the  best 
that  could  be  provided ;  he  could  only  cling  to  her 
chilled  hand,  and  listen  to  her  sweet,  consoling  voice, 
as  she  bade  him  look  forward  to  a  home  where  there 
would  be  no  separation,  no  tears,  and  assured  him  of 
her  joy  in  having  made  her  last  pilgrimage  to  a  land 
where  God  might  be  worshiped  in  the  spirit  and  truth. 
She  had  no  regrets  for  the  beautiful  home  she  had 
left  in  the  Old  World,  but  rather  gloried  in  finding 
her  burial-place  upon  shores,  where  she  believed  a 
people  of  God  had  begun  to  take  root.  The  same 
sweet  piety  and  self-sacrificing  spirit  that  character- 
ized her  life,  supported  her  in  death. 

The  last  morning  of  August,  1630,  found  the  "  mor- 
tal paleness"  upon  her  features,  beautiful  even  in 
death.     She  is  dead  !  she  is  dead!  the  beautiful  Ara 


318         DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

bella!  eclioed  from  one  lip  to  another.  Tlie  young 
girls  wept,  and  the  matrons  sighed  at  her  quick  de- 
parture, and  said  the  wilderness  was  no  place  for 
earl's  daughters.  The  hardy  men  were  silent  at  the 
news,  but  could  point  out  the  mounds  where  their 
own  dead  were  laid,  in  evidence  that  they  knew  the 
agony  of  the  stroke  that  had  fallen  upon  the  newly 
bereaved  husband.  He  sat  silent  and  tearless,  his 
eyes  clinging  to  and  tracing  the  smooth,  marble  fea- 
tures, as  if  to  keep  their  memory  forever  with  him. 
The  eyes  in  which  he  had  always  read  ineffable  love, 
the  lips  which  had  only  spoken  tenderness  and  en- 
couragement, no  longer  welcomed  his  presence. 

The  burial  of  the  good  and  the  loved  was  too  fre- 
quent an  occurrence  to  obtain  more  than  a  passing 
notice  from  the  afflicted  colonists,  almost  every  one 
of  whom  had  ctood  at  the  graves  of  the  near  and  dear. 
The  lovely  and  the  worshiped  wife  of  Johnson  was 
laid  in  one  of  the  grassy  glades  of  Salem,  and  imme- 
diately the  pressing  wants  and  occupations  of  the  col- 
ony displaced  the  passing  sadness.  Homes  and  har- 
vests were  to  be  striven  for,  before  the  severities  of 
winter  should  overtake  them,  and  snatch  still  more 
from  their  diminished  numbers. 

All  the  hope  that  had  animated  Mr.  Johnson  hith 
erto,  seemed  buried  in  the  grave  of  his  wife.  He 
engaged  in  the  removal  to  Charlestown,  and  the  plan- 
ning of  Trimountain,  or  Boston,  with  diligence  and 
energy,  for,  says  one  of  the  journalists  of  the  time,  he 
"  was  the  greatest  furtherer  of  this  plantation  ;  "  yet 


LADY  ARABELLA  JOHNSON.  319 

all  Lis  employments  could  not  divert  him  from  his 
loss,  and  with  all  his  fortitude  and  strength  of  char- 
acter, he  could  not  shake  oS  the  grief  that  preyed 
upon  him.  He  selected  a  lot,  and  built  a  house  upon 
it,  but  the  want  of  the  angelic  presence  of  her  who 
was  to  have  made  his  household  glad,  only  saddened 
him  the  more.  His  was  a  dumb  grief — fatal  in  its 
silence.  It  wore  upon  him  —  it  consumed  his  life  — 
it  bore  him  to  the  grave  in  a  few  short  weeks  after 
the  death  of  his  loved  wife. 

He  was  buried,  at  his  own  request,  in  the  lot  he 
had  chosen  for  his  dwelling.  "At  his  departure," 
says  an  early  historian,  "  there  were  many  weeping 
eyes,  and  some  fainting  hearts,  fearing  the  failure  of 
the  undertaking,"  for  he  had  been  "  a  prime  mover 
of  the  enterprise,  zealous  in  religion,"  and  a  benefac- 
tor of  the  colony.  He  had  left,  too,  the  encouraging 
testimony  which  had  so  soothed  his  sorrow  when  ut- 
tered by  his  dying  wife,  that  he  "  rejoiced  that  he  had 
lived  to  see  a  church  of  Christ  established  in  Amer- 
ica, and  professed  that  he  thought  his  life  better  spent 
in  that  than  any  other  way."  So  much  beloved  was 
be,  that  the  people  desired  to  be  buried  near  him 
when  they  died.  His  lot,  therefore,  was  appropria- 
ted as  a  burial  place,  and  still  remains  as  such,  in  the 
midst  of  Boston,  in  the  close  vicinity  of  the  Court 
House,  which  occupies  the  site  of  his  dwelling. 

Two  years  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Johnson  and  Lady 
Arabella,  Mr.  Humfrey,  who  was  to  have  emigrated 
with  them,  arrived  at  Boston  with  his  family,  with 


820        DISCOVEKEES    AND   PIONEERS   OF  AMERICA. 

the  hope  of  furthering  the  good  work,  and  undis- 
mayed by  the  sacrifice  of  a  favorite  sister,  and  hei 
revered  husband.  After  a  residence  of  eight  or  nine 
years,  however,  and  the  endurance  of  losses  by  fire, 
and  many  reverses,  he  returned  with  his  wife  to  their 
ancestral  estates  in  England. 

However  few  the  records  of  the  gentle  Lady  Ara- 
bella and  her  husband,  the  "  Father  of  Boston,"  their 
memory  will  ever  be  preserved  by  New  Englandei*s, 
and  those  who  admire  and  venerate  the  magnanimity, 
the  self-sacrificing  spirit,  the  firmness  and  the  high 
Christian  purpose  of  the  early  Pilgrims,  whom  nei- 
ther the  fury  of  the  sea,  the  blight  of  the  north  wind, 
the  fear  of  famine,  the  knife  and  the  war-whoop  of 
the  savage,  nor  even  the  image  of  Death  always  sta- 
tioned at  their  thresholds,  could,  with  combined  ter- 
rors, deter  from  the  work  to  which  God  had  ap* 
»>ointed  them. 


IX 


JOHN  ELIOT. 

The  spiritual  hero  is  far  more  illustrious  tlian  t  lo 
merely  scientific,  or  military,  or  mercenary.  He  who 
rules  his  own  spirit  is  better  than  he  that  taketh  a 
city  ;  and  he  that  conquers  hearts  to  the  dommion  of 
the  Prince  of  Peace,  is  greater  than  he  who  adds  new 
provinces  to  the  realm  of  his  earthly  sovereign.  Col- 
umbus was  a  sublime,  moral  hero,  no  less  than  phys 
ically  such  ;  he  dared  the  scorn  of  men,  as  well  as 
the  foaming  lips  of  the  ocean ;  but  here  his  praise 
must  cease  ;  a  stern  encounter  of  outward  difficul- 
ties, and  a  brave  endurance  of  ingratitude  and  chains, 
were  the  virtues  called  into  exercise.  Neither  he, 
nor  Hudson,  nor  De  Soto,  nor  Raleigh,  explored,  like 
Eliot,  the  world  of  truth,  and  of  the  human  heart, 
persevering  in  the  rugged  line  of  holy  duty  even  to 
extreme  age.  Xone  of  those  noted  discoverers,  like 
this  well-entitled  Apostle  of  the  Indians,  struggled  for 
years  through  barbarous  aboriginal  dialects,  more 
strange  and  obscure  than  the  tangled  southern  forests, 
and  not  to  be  cut  with  any  axe  of  steel ;  none  of 
them  can  be  ranked  with  him  who  contended  with 
N*  21  - 


322         DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

Indian  indifference,  colder  than  polar  ice,  and  Indian 
wiles,  more  deceptive  than  unknown  rocks  and  shoals  ; 
none  of  them,  like  him,  went  alone  among  threaten- 
ing savages,  defying  their  opposition  in  the  words,  "I 
am  about  the  work  of  the  great  God.  ...  I  will 
go  on ;  do  jou  touch  me  if  you  dare." 

John  Eliot  was  born,  it  is  suj)posed,  in  IGOl,  at 
basing,  a  village  situated  a  few  miles  north  of  Lon- 
don, near  the  famous  Epping  Forest,  which  is  now  a 
level  region  of  rich  pasturage  and  cultivated  ground. 
His  earliest  years  passed  here  under  the  guidance  of 
pious,  faithful  parents.  There  was  nothing  remarka- 
ble in  his  docile  childhood,  yet  its  simple  record  af- 
fords another  illustration  of  the  great  results  which 
may  flow  from  the  use  of  humble  means. 

Whether  Cambridge  University  is  the  one  where 
young  Eliot's  education  was  completed,  or  which  of 
its  seventeen  colleges  and  halls  he  entered,  are  ques- 
'tions  which  can  only  be  settled  by  reference  to  their 
archives.  Cambridge  is  so  near  his  native  place  that 
the  probability  is  in  its  favor.  Here  he  may  possibly 
have  dwelt  under  the  same  roof  with  Milton,  who  was 
younger  than  he  by  four  years,  and  graduated  at  the 
same  institution.  But,  whatever  is  left  in  doubt,  it  is 
certain  that  he  was  a  thorough  scholar,  es23ecially  in 
the  ancient  languages,  grammar  and  theology. 

After  finishing  his  academical  course,  he  became 
an  usher  in  a  school  opened  by  Tliomas  Hooker,  at 
Little  Bad  don,  near  the  county-town  of  Essex.  Mr. 
Hooker  had  been  silenced  as  a  preacher  because  of 


JOHN     ELIOT.  323 

non-confca'inity,  and  in  the  same  year  in  wliicn  he 
established  the  school,  was  obliged  to  escape  into 
Holland  ;  thence  he  went  to  New  England,  was  the 
first  minister  of  Cambridge,  Mass.,  and  afterwards 
was  one  of  the  first  settlers  who,  guided  through  the 
wilderness  by  a  compass,  founded  the  town  of  Hart- 
ford, Conn.  Short  as  must  have  been  Eliot's  associ- 
ation with  this  distinguished  man,  it  was  ever  re- 
membered by  him  as  fruitful  in  much  spiritual  good. 
He  fulfilled,  with  quiet  assiduity,  the  trying  duties  of 
a  teacher,  although  that  noble  ofiice,  still  despised  in 
England,  was  then  generally  held  in  so  much  con 
t>empt  that  Cotton  Mather  labors  to  show  that  Eliot 
was  not  disgraced  by  the  occupation.  In  the  family 
of  the  devoted  Hooker,  he  found  those  happy  reli- 
gious influences  which  not  only  refreshed  him  from 
the  cares  of  his  employment,  but  strengthened  every 
holy  purpose. 

The  persecutions  that  gave  no  rest  to  the  English 
Puritans,  discouraged  him  from  any  attempt  to  as- 
sume, in  his  native  land,  the  ofiice  of  the  ministry, 
which  he  had  now  fixed  upon  as  his  proper  calling  ; 
it  is  thought,  indeed,  that  he  was  not  even  permitted 
to  continue  as  an  instructor,  after  Plooker's  school  was 
dispersed.  The  courage  exhibited  in  his  after  life, 
shows  that  neither  the  fear  of  imprisonment  nor  of 
death,  deterred  him  from  duty  ;  but  his  manly  sense 
of  freedom  would  not  allow  him  to  preach  in  secret, 
in  the  recesses  of  forests  and  desolate  moors,  liable  tc 
be  surprised  at  any  moment,  by  the  onset  of  armed 


324         DISC0VEKEK3   AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

cavaliers  in  search  of  the  "  rebel  roundheads."  Like 
all  the  Pilgrims,  he  longed  for  the  liberty  of  a  Xew 
"World,  notwithstanding  the  superstition  of  the  time 
had  invested  the  wilderness  and  the  "  salvages  "  with 
a  supernatural  terror,  equal  to  the  romantic  attrac- 
tion thrown  over  them  by  enthusiasm.  At  the  age 
of  twentv-seven,  he  determined  to  forsake  Ens^land, 
leaving  the  lady  to  whom  he  was  engaged,  to  follow 
him  when  he  should  have  provided  a  fixed  home. 

In  November,  1631,  the  ship  Lion,  Captain  Pierce, 
anchored  in  Boston  harbor,  with  sixty  passengers, 
among  whom  were  John  Eliot  and  the  family  of 
Governor  Winthrop.  The  arrival  of  so  important 
persons,  the  accession  of  so  many  colonists,  and  the 
no  less  welcome  cargo  of  provisions  at  a  time  wdien  a 
famine  was  apprehended,  were  greeted  by  tlie  first 
celebration  of  the  infant  town  —  a  child's-play  dem- 
onstration that,  pictured  to  modern  imagination,  oddly 
contrasts  with  the  recent  reception  of  a  foreign  ]3a- 
triot,  by  an  army  of  citizen  soldiers  and  a  countless 
crowd  of  spectators,  on  Beacon  Hill,  then  a  towering 
mount  of  wildwood,  but  now  a  half-leveled  elevation 
crowned  with  a  State  House  and  princely  dwellings, 
that  overlook  the  long,  leafy  arcades  of  the  Common. 
The  site  of  the  city,  at  that  period,  presented  three 
abrupt  eminences,  with  marshes  between,  which  were 
so  overflowed  at  high-tide  as  to  give  the  peninsula  the 
appearance  of  two  islands. 

The  year  before  Eliot  s  arrival,  "Winthrop  had 
reached  New  England  with  seventeen  ships  and  fif 


JOHN   ELIOT.  3-15 

teen  hundred  passengers,  more  than  half  of  them 
Puritans,  and  embracing  many  persons  of  wealth, 
learning  and  talent,  who  left  all  the  refinements  of  an 
English  home  for  the  sake  of  civil  and  religious  free- 
dom. Many  of  these  settled  in  the  vicinity,  but  the 
hardships  of  the  first  winter,  the  rude  experience  of 
life  in  an  uncivilized  country,  and  the  consequent  de- 
pression of  spirits  and  inroads  of  disease,  seriously 
thinned  out  their  numbers,  till  a  comparatively  fee- 
ble band  was  left  to  found  the  future  metropolis.  The 
little  colony,  however,  was  in  full  operation  upon  the 
coming  of  the  new  emigrants.  Its  election  day  was 
fixed,  its  fine  imposed  in  a  case  of  true  Yankee  quack- 
ery, its  monthly  militia  trainings  instituted,  and  other 
amusing  and  still  perpetuated  characteristics  exhib- 
ited, which  scarcely  seem  the  record  of  two  hundred 
years  ago,  but  rather  that  of  a  settlement  of  enter 
prising  Yankees  in  the  "  backwoods  "  to-day. 

"With  true  Puritan  zeal,  a  church  had  been  organ- 
ized before  a  single  tree  had  been  felled  or  a  house 
erected.  The  pastor  of  the  church.  Rev.  Mr.  "Wilson, 
being  absent  in  England,  Eliot  was  at  once  called  up- 
on to  occuj^y  his  place,  greatly  to  the  relief  of  the 
governor  and  two  other  laymen,  who  had  been  ap- 
pointed by  the  pastor  to  "  prophesy  "  during  his  ab- 
sence. With  an  audience  comprising  robust  intellect, 
high  education,  and  religious  cultivation,  it  is  no 
small  testimony  to  Eliot's  ability,  that  an  earnest  ef- 
fort was  made  to  retain  him  as  a  colleague  of  Mr. 
Wilson.      But  he  had  induced   a  large  number  of 


326         DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

friends  to  emigrate  to  America,  witli  the  understand' 
ing  tliat  he  would  be  their  minister.  With  them; 
came  the  lady  of  his  choice,  to  whom  he  was  united 
in  October,  1632.  He  immediately  removed  to  Rox- 
bury,  where  he  was  made  teacher  of  the  new  cliurch, 
in  fulfillment  of  his  promise. 

'No  events  of  importance  are  chronicled  concern- 
ing him  for  the  next  fourteen  years,  except  his  inci- 
dental connection  with  certain  j^olitical  and  religious 
agitations  in  the  colony.  His  life  was  one  of  indus- 
trious activity.  He  followed  the  round  of  humble 
duty  with  the  noiseless  step  of  true  usefulness,  never 
taking  a  conspicuous  part  in  passing  events,  except 
when  the  same  sense  of  duty  called  for  a  variation 
from  the  quiet  routine  of  his  occupation. 

In  all  things  he  seems  to  have  been  the  plain  model 
of  a  man,  and  of  a  minister  of  the  Gospel.  So  far  as 
can  be  gathered  from  the  few  writings  of  his  that  are 
preserved,  and  from  descriptions  by  his  cotempora- 
rios,  his  discourses  were  thoroughly  studied,  simple, 
bold,  and  warmed  with  a  true  Christian  love  and 
zeal.  The  same  simplicity  characterized  his  daily 
manner,  dress  and  diet ;  he  was  guileless  as  a  child, 
in  his  conversation,  and  unostentatious  in  his  bear- 
ing. So  intent  was  he  upon  higher  objects,  that  his 
personal  appearance  erred  on  the  side  of  negligence ; 
and  so  far  was  he  from  indulging  the  pleasures  of  ap- 
petite, that  he  practiced  the  most  rigid  self-denial,  al- 
ways confining  himself  to  one  article  of  food,  and  tc 
a  glass  of  water,  though  a  feast  were  set  before  him, 


JOHN    ELIOT.  327 

and  thongli  tlic  practice  was  universal  to  partake  of 
wine.  By  these  means,  and  by  his  active  habits,  he 
strengthened  his  constitution  for  a  k->ng  life  and  ardu- 
ous labors. 

Luxury  soon  followed  the  Puritans  to  their  new  home 
in  the  forest.     Many  of  them  were  w^ealthy,  refined 
ana  enterprising,  and,  as  the   colony  increased  and 
prospered,  these   citizens  gradually  gathered  about 
them  some  of  the  comforts  of  their  old  homes.    Little 
by  little,  the  Eves  of  the  community  ventured  to  add 
a  bright  ribbon  to  their  sober  garb,  to  alter  the  wea- 
risome sameness  of  the  cut  of  tJieir  garments,  or  to 
don  a   becoming  vail  which  did  no  manner  of  harm 
except  to  excite  the  envy   of  some   superannuated 
spinster.     The  young  gallants,  also,  made  various  in- 
iipvations  on  the  prejudices  of  the  times,  till  all  were 
speedily  checked  by  severe  pulpit  denunciation.     It 
was   considered  not  beneath  the  dignity  of  the  Gen- 
eral Court  of  Boston,  to  sit  in  judgment  upon   the 
"  large  vails  and  large  sleeves  "  of  the  women,  and  to 
condemn  the   use   of  "gold  and  silver  laces,  girdles, 
hat-bands,  and  embroidered  caps."     But  it  is  not  sur- 
prising that  the  heroic  and  devoted  men  of  that  day 
did  not  discriminate  between  a  culpable  excess  and  a 
reasonable  participation  in  those    elegancies  of  life, 
which  are  the  product  of  commendable  art  and  indus- 
try, and  are  the  natural  flowers  that  spring  from  an 
instinctive  love  of  the  beautiful.     Educated  as  they 
were,  in   a   land  where  ceremonials  of  church  and 
state  were  held  in  iJgh  consideration,  and  confound 


S28         DISC0VEEER3   AN1>   PJi)XEERS    OP^   AMERICA. 

ing  tlie  garb  with  the  reality  of  tyranny  and  vanity, 
it  is  not  wonderful  that  they  carried  their  principles 
to  a  ludicrous  extreme,  and  gave  equal  importance  to 
insignificant  fashions.  Eliot  was  not  exempt  from  the 
mistaken  scruples  of  his  period ;  he  long  inveighed 
with  determined  zeal  ao^ainst  the  wearins*  of  Ions;  hair 
and  frizzled  wigs  —  matters  that  at  best  are  questions 
only  of  individual  taste  and  convenience. 

Bis  character  was  by  no  means  severe  and  repel- 
ling, notwithstanding  the  grave,  earnest  nature  of  hie 
pursuits,  and  of  his  times.  He  had  no  forced  dignity 
and  sobriety,  peculiar  to  his  class,  but  that  uncon 
scious  dignity  which  arises  spontaneously,  from  per- 
fect sincerity  and  right  purposes.  He  was  always 
himself,  and  his  conversation  was  full  of  lively  hu 
mor,  regulated  wit,  instructive  suggestion,  and  moral 
influence.  Gentleness  and  cheerfulness  were  the  or- 
dinary habit  of  his  feelings,  and  the  spirit  of  love 
predominated  in  his  teachings  ;  yet,  whenever  public 
or  private  abuses  seemed  to  demand  it,  he  uttered  re- 
bukes and  denunciations  in  the  aj)palling  tones  of  the 
ancient  prophets  and  old  reformers.  At  that  day, 
and  on  that  free  soil,  the  spiritual  guide  of  the  jdco- 
ple  was  exjDected  to  utter  the  truth  in  all  its  social 
and  civil  applications,  directly  in  the  face  of  power 
and  station.  He  was  upheld  in  proportion  to  his  fear- 
less faithfulness,  and  not  according  to  his  subservi- 
ency to  the  few  from  whom  he  derived  his  well-earned 
income. 

Amusing  anecdotes  are  told   of  Eliot's   charities 


JOHN   ELIOT.  329 

Kext  to  his  single-eyed  zeal  for  the  souls  of  men.  was 
this  trait  of  generous  benevolence.  His  life-long  at- 
tempts to  civilize,  as  well  as  to  evangelize  the  In- 
dians, are  the  best  illustrations  of  this.  But  he  nev- 
er overlooked  the  daily  opportunities  of  ameliorating 
the  o3ndition  of  men,  in  his  enthusiasm  for  great  en- 
terprises. The  poor  and  sick  were  diligently  sought 
out,  if  they  did  not  send  for  him.  The  comfort  of 
his  own  family  was  often  forgotten,  when  an  object 
of  compassion  appealed  to  his  sympathy.  On  one 
occasion,  the  parish  treasurer  had  made  him  a  pay- 
ment of  salary,  but,  knowing  his  too  liberal  disposi- 
tion, had  securely  tied  up  the  money  in  a  handker- 
chief. Eliot,  on  his  way  home,  called  on  a  poor,  sick 
family,  and  told  them  the  Lord  had  sent  them  relief. 
They  wept  for  gratitude,  while  he  endeavored  to 
loosen  the  hard  knots  of  the  handkerchief.  Unable 
to  open  it,  he  gave  it  and  all  the  contents  to  the  needy 
mother  of  the  family,  saying,  "  Here,  my  dear,  take 
it ;  I  believe  the  Lord  designs  it  all  for  you." 

His  companion,  destined  to  walk  life's  pilgrimage 
with  him  for  more  than  half  a  century,  was  every 
way  congenial  in  disposition,  and  fitted  to  supply 
his  deficiencies.  She  had  some  skill  in  medicine, 
and  greatly  assisted  him  in  his  efforts  to  relievo 
illness,  disease  and  poverty.  More  than  all,  by 
her  busy  industry,  and  shrewd  economy,  she  kept 
his  affairs  from  falling  into  the  perplexity  to  which 
his  bountiful  and  artless  nature  would  have  suffered 
^hem  to  run.      So   little    did    he    concern    himself 


330         DISCOVEKEES   A^D   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 


«j 


witli  the  goods  of  this  world,  it  is  related  that  sJic 
once  asked  him  whose  were  the  cattle  which  liap- 
pened  to  be  standing  in  front  of  his  house  ;  he  replied 
tiiat  he  did  not  know,  and  was  surprised  to  find  that 
they  were  his  own  proj^erty. 

Such  was  the  man  who  well  represented  his  age 
and  state  of  society,  and  who  has  left  a  life  re^^lete 
with  noble  deeds.  The  picture,  as  thus  presented, 
has,  doubtless,  the  mellow  coloring  of  his  rijDcr  days. 
He  was  young  when  he  entered  upon  his  work,  and 
lived  to  very  advanced  years.  The  inexperienced 
and  trivial  impulses  of  his  youth,  if  any  were  yielde^^ 
to,  are  lost  in  oblivion,  and  his  mistakes,  acknowl 
edged  by  him  as  such,  do  not  mar  the  fine  pattern  of 
character  exhibited  in  his  memoirs.  In  all  things,  he 
might  well  have  stood  for  the  original  of  Cowper's 
portrait  of  a  spiritual  teacher,  drawn  a  century  af- 
terward. 

Eliot  had  not  long  resided  at  Koxbury,  when  an 
event  occurred  which  illustrates  his  independence 
and  candor,  while  it  may  also  be  an  instance  of  his 
immaturity  of  judgment,  and  of  the  position  of  his 
class,  then,  as  the  Koman-like  tribunes  of  the  people. 
The  Pequot  sachem,  who  was  engaged  in  a  war  with 
the  Naragansets  and  the  Dutch,  sent  envoys  to  ne- 
gotiate a  treaty  of  peace  with  the  Massachusetts  colo- 
ny. Strange  as  it  may  now  seem,  the  matter  was 
brought  up  at  the  weekly  religious  lecture,  where 
members  of  the  council  haj^pened  to  be  when  the  am- 
bassadors arrived,  and  where  it  was  considered  fortu- 


JOHN    ELIOT.  331 

nate  that  tliej  could  be  consulted  in  connection  with 
the  clergy,  wlio  had  no  small  share  in  public  delib- 
erations.    A  treaty  was  effected,  by  which  the  In- 
dians, amonir  other  conditions,  were  to  aid  the  forma- 
tion  of  a  Connecticut  settlement,  and  to  pay  "  four 
hundred  fathoms  of  wampum,  with  forty  beaver,  and 
thirty  other  skins."     Eliot  denounced  the  transaction 
in  a  sermon,  particularly  because  the  people  had  not 
been  consulted.     The  government  directed  three  cler- 
gymen, one  of  whom  was  his  old  fellow-teacher,  Mr. 
Hooker,  to  ^'  deal  with  him  ;  "  and,  the  next  Sabbath, 
he  readily  acknowledged  that,  inasmuch  as  the  treaty 
was  one  of  peace,  not  of  war,  he  had  condemned  too 
hastily  "  the  powers  that  be."     His  life  affords  too 
much  proof  of  undaunted  firmness  of  character,  to  ad- 
mit of  interpreting  this  magnanimous  willingness  to 
retract  an  error,  as  an  act  of  weakness  or  cowardly 
inconsistency. 

He  next  appears  in  the  famous  affair  of  Ann  Hutch- 
inson—  a  theological  war  that  originated  in  what 
may  be  considered  the  first  AVomans'  Eights  move- 
ment in  America.  The  men  of  the  First  Church,  in 
Boston,  were  accustomed  to  meet,  recapitulate  the 
sermons  of  the  preceding  Sabbath,  and  comment  on 
them  ;  and  from  these  meetings  the  women  were  ex- 
cluded. Mrs.  Hutchinson,  a  native  of  Lincolnshire, 
and  w^ife  of  one  of  the  Boston  representatives  at  the 
General  Court,  established  similar  conclaves  at  her 
own  house,  freely  discussed  the  doctrines  of  the  pul- 
pit, taking  Mr.  Cotton  into  her  especial  favor,  and  de- 


832         DISCOVERERS    A]S'D   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

nouncing  all  but  two  or  three  of  the  ministers  as  "un« 
der  covenant  of  works,  instead  of  grace.  Among 
other  heresies,  she  advocated  the  possibility  of  enjoy- 
ing immediate  Divine  inspiration. 

The  proceeding  «5aoji  grew  to  be  a  general  contro- 
versy ;  civil  and  ecclesiastical  dignitaries  were  ranged 
on  opposite  sides  of  the  question ;  all  impugned  the 
motives  as  well  as  human  opinions  of  each  other,  and 
were,  as  they  persuaded  themselves,  very  humbly 
jealous  for  the  pure  truth.  At  length,  to  settle  the 
weighty  matter,  the  first  synod  in  America  was  call- 
ed at  Kewton,  near  Boston.  Eliot  was  one  of  the 
witnesses  against  Ann  Hutchinson ;  he,  with  others, 
had  visited  her  and  taken  down  her  sentiments  in 
writing,  to  the  exactness  of  which  they  were  obliged 
to  testify  under  oath.  In  the  course  of  the  trial,  El- 
iot denied  that  the  Scripture  encourages  us  to  expect 
a  "particular  revelation  of  things  that  shall  fall  out." 
To  this.  Governor  Yane,  a  partisan  of  the  defendant, 
replied  that  "we  must  not  limit  the  word  of  God." 
It  also  appeared  that  the  venerable  Hooker  had  pro- 
fessed to  receive  a  revelation  concernino'  the  over- 
throw  of  England.  This  imputation  was  mistakenly 
contradicted  by  Eliot. 

The  convention  gravely  passed  condemnation  on 
no  less  than  eighty-two  erroneous  opinions  of  poor 
Ann  and  her  followers — a  result  at  which  we  need 
not  smile,  when  we  recollect  that  many  such  petty 
questions,  as  whether  a  man  may  marry  his  wife's 
feister,  or  whether  his  daughter  may  move  her  feet  to 


JOHN   ELIOT.  333 

mnsic,  are  wortliy  of  profound  legislation  in  learned 
assemblies,  gathered  from  all  parts  of  the  United 
States,  in  this  enlightened  day,  while  real  and  "  pe- 
culiar" evils  are  snugly  wrapped  in  the  cloak  of 
charity.  The  misguided  Ann  was  afterwards  ban- 
ished by  the  General  Court,  and  went  fo  the  then  asy- 
lum of  free  speech  —  Ehode  Island.  Subsequently, 
she  and  her  family  were  killed  by  the  Indians,  in  the 
Dutch  country  —  an  event  that  was  construed  by  her 
persecutors  as  a  judgment  of  Heaven,  and  by  no 
means  as  a  consequence  of  their  own  officious  intol- 
erance, which  would  not  let  a  woman's  delusion  die 
out,  but  fanned  it  into  a  fire  that  threatened  to  con- 
sume the  colony. 

But  a  few  years  after  this  extirpation  of  heresy,  the 
triumphant  faith  of  the  colony  had  risen  to  such  a 
pitch,  that  n  new  metrical  version  of  the  Psalms  was 
demanded.  Eliot  was  one  of  three  appointed  to  this 
work,  and  the  result  was  the  first  bound  volume  ever 
published  in  America,  only  a  pamphlet  and  an  alma- 
nac having  preceded  it.  The  book  was  printed  at 
Cambridge,  in  1640,  and  entitled,  "  The  Psalms  in  Me- 
tre, faithfully  translated  for  the  use,  edification,  and 
comfort  of  the  Saints,  in  publick  and  private,  espe- 
cially in  ]^ew  England."  The  version  was  soon 
adopted  throughout  the  region  named  in  the  title  by 
which  it  was  generally  known — the  "J^ew  England 
Version,"  and  was  used  by  non-conformists  in  Britain 
The  piety  of  the  work  is  so  much  better  than  the  po- 


33-i         DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

etrj,  that  the  authors  deserve  the  satirical  advice 
given  them  at  the  time  : 

"You  Roxb'ry  poets,  keep  clear  of  the  crime, 
Of  missing  to  give  us  very  good  rhyme." 

Eliot  occasionally  amused  himself  bj  writing  ver- 
ses—  a  most  laudable  exercise  and  recreation,  if  it 
be  the  putting  of  some  beautiful  thought  into  melodi- 
ous language  ;  but,  in  that  age,  it  was  a  mere  rivalry 
in  trivial  and  ingenious  conceits,  expressed  in  pedan- 
tic words.  His  "  ISTew  England  Version,"  however, 
answered  its  purpose,  great  as  its  faults  may  have 
been.  Its  stanzas  have  winged  many  a  devoted  soul 
to  heaven,  in  the  hour  of  worship. 

Elliot  next  appears  in  the  great  undertaking,  to 
which  the  best  energies  of  his  life  were  given,  and 
which  has  lent  his  name  its  cliief  distinction  —  the 
conversion  of  the  Indians.  This  had  been  a  promi- 
nent object  with  the  patrons  of  American  discovery, 
such  as  Isabella,  of  Spain,  and  with  many  of  the  first 
settlers.  Glorious  visions  of  the  christianizino:  of  the 
aborigines,  floated  before  their  eyes ;  much  wealth 
and  life  were  consecrated  to  this  noble  end.  It 
should  be  remembered  that  a  world-wide  benevolence, 
not  confined  to  our  own  boastful  age,  was  a  powerful 
motive  in  that  day,  no  less  than  lust  of  gold  and  love 
of  freedom.  In  the  Charter  of  the  Massachusetts  col- 
ony, granted  by  Charles  I.,  the  hope  was  expressed 
that  the  colonists  "  male  wynn  and  incite  the  natives 


JOHN   ELIOT.  335 

of  tlie  coiiutiy  to  the  knowledge  and  o  jedience  of  tlie 
onlie  true  God  and  Savior  of  raankinde,  and  the  Chris- 
tian Faytli,  which  in  our  Kojall  Intencion,  and  the 
Adventurers'  free  Profession,  is  the  princij^all  Ende 
of  this  Plantacion." 

The  success  of  Eliot,  as  well  as  that  of  Brainard,  in 
the  next  century,  and  of  the  Cherokee  mission  in  this, 
is  proof,  in  the  face  of  all  failures,  that  the  simple- 
hearted  children  of  the  forest  might  have  been  civil- 
ized, in  the  course  of  time,  had  not  the  corrupting 
influences  that  accompany  civilization,  and  the  supe- 
rior tactics  of  Europeans,  wasted  the  tribes  too  soon 
for  the  realization  of  the  grand  result.  Had  wars, 
foreign  diseases,  and  spirituous  poison,  been  unknown, 
the  numerous  tribes,  whose  "names  are  on  our  wa- 
ters," would  have  been  found  to-day  in  refined  com- 
munities, scattered  over  their  ancient  country,  or  col- 
lected in  some  well-tilled  state  or  territory  of  their 
own. 

Tlie  progress  of  the  work  among  the  natives,  was 
reported  from  time  to  time,  to  the  w^orld,  in  pam- 
phlets that  bore  such  quaint  and  poetic  titles  as  these  : 
"  The  Day-Breaking,  if  not  the  Sun-Bising  of  the 
Gospel,  with  the  Indians  of  JN^ew  England,  &c.,  Lon- 
don, 1647;"— "The  Cleare  Sun-Shine  of  the  Gospel 
breaking  forth  upon  the  Indians,  &c.,  161:8  ;  " — "  The 
Light  appearing  more  and  more  towards  the  perfect 
Day,  &c.,  1651."  He  who  was  the  leader  in  a  move- 
ment which  his  cotemporaries  loved  to  speak  of  in 
these   glowing  images   of  day-break,  may  well   be 


S3G         DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

numbered   among  the   morning  stars   of  the   E'ew 
World. 

The  General  Conrt,  in  1646,  requested  the  elders  of 
the  churches  to  consider  how  Christianity  might  be 
diffused  among  the  natives,  and  this  recommendation 
appears  to  have  increased  the  zeal  of  Eliot.  He  had 
already  begun  to  acquire  the  Indian  language,  with 
the  aid  of  a  young  Pequot,  who  had  been  a  servant 
in  an  English  family.  In  this  task  he  was  engaged 
two  years,  before  he  thought  himself  prepared  to 
preach  in  the  language,  although  he  was  sooner  able 
to  translate  it  into  the  Commandments,  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  with  passages  of  Scripture,  and  exhortations. 
It  was  a  long,  patient,  humble,  though  noble,  under- 
taking to  surmount  the  first  difficulty.  The  sole  mo- 
tive was  to  do  good ;  for  no  treasures  of  literature 
were  to  be  unlocked,  by  the  hard  study —  only  a  me- 
dium for  communicating  truth  to  the  savage,  was  to 
be  acquired.  The  Indian  dialects  were  full  of  unpro- 
nounceable words,  such  as  "Wutappessttukgussunnoo- 
hwehtunkquok  "  —  "  kneeling  down  to  him  ;  "  with 
no  grammar  or  dictionary,  these  words  were  so  in- 
comprehensible that  Cotton  Mather  gravely  declares 
that  certain  demons,  whose  skill  in  language  he  had 
tested,  were  confounded  by  the  speech  of  the  Ameri- 
can barbarians,  w^hile  the  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew, 
were  quite  intelligible  to  the  same  demons. 

This  j)eriod  of  Eliot's  life  was  in  interesting  contrast 
with  his  earlier  position,  when,  as  a  Cambridge  stu- 
dent,  he   had   pored   over  the  classics,  among   the 


JOHN    ELIOT.  337 

grand  old  trees  and  buildings  of  an  English  Univer- 
sity,  and,  in  the  words  of  a  later  son  of  the  same  ac- 
ademical mother,  had 

Heard  in  college  fanes 
The  storm  their  high-built  organs  make, 
And  thunder-music,  rolling,  shake 
The  prophets  blazoned  on  the  panes." 

Now  the  simple  chanting  of  a  few  pilgrims  and 
half-tamed  Indians,  in  a  mud-built,  straw-thatched 
church,  were  the  accompaniments  of  his  labors.  Or, 
seated  in  his  rude  manse,  he  became  the  pupil  of  a 
wild  Pequot,  rather  than  of  the  learned  professors  of 
his  youth,  and  slowly  and  painfully  possessed  himself 
of  the  sense  of  the  rough  jargon  uttered  by  his  sav- 
age teacher. 

I^ot  that  the  uncontaminated  Indian  was  a  savao:o 
in  the  sense  that  the  gross,  treacherous,  and  ferocious 
South-sea  cannibal  is,  but  only  such  in  the  arts  of  life  ; 
for  the  original  lords  of  ISTorth  American  soil  were  as 
true-hearted  and  gentle  as  children,  except  when 
roused  to  warfare  by  wrongs,  or  by  the  politics  of 
their  jealous  sachems  and  powaws,  who,  like  their 
counterparts  in  every  nation,  were  corrupted  by 
power,  and  ever  on  the  alert  to  preserve  their  selfish 
interests.  When  excited  to  violence  in  these  ways, 
the  sons  of  the  wilderness  were  quite  as  false,  subtle, 
and  blood-thirsty  as  their  refined  conquerors.  The 
.ion  and  the  lamb  —  the  animal  and  the  angel,  dwelt 
together  in  their  nat'ire,  as  in  that  of  all  men,  and 
O  22 


338  DISCOVEPwERS    AND   PIONEERS   OF   AMERICA. 

either  could  be  so  awakened  as  to  prevail  over  tlie 
other  element. 

Eliot  was  forty-two  years  old  when  he  entered  on 
the  work  of  unfolding  the  truths  of  Christianity  to  the 
natives.  He  had  seen  much  of  them  in  their  inter- 
course with  the  colony,  and  had  become  friendly  with 
several.  They  expressed  a  desire  to  live  like  the  Eu- 
ropeans, with  whom  they  believed  their  people  would 
be  wholly  mingled  in  a  hundred  years.  Of  course, 
their  wish  to  be  taught  respecting  the  true  God,  as 
has  been  always  proved  in  their  case,  had  too  little 
spiritual  development  to  include  other  than  mere  out- 
ward advantages,  which  they  hoped  the  teaching 
would  immediately  bring;  and  then,  as  ever,  when 
they  found  it  brought  small  present  profit,  no  meat 
and  drink,  there  was  danger  of  a  reaction  in  their 
minds.  But  Eliot  rightly  improved  their  inquiring 
state  of  intellect,  and  made  an  appointment  to  meet 
them  on  the  twenty-eighth  of  October,  1646,  on  the 
hills  of  I^ewtown,  Massachusetts,  which  are  now  in  the 
suburbs  of  Boston,  and  daily  passed  by  crowded  trains 
of  the  Western  railway.  Here  the  first  civilized  set- 
tlement  of  Indians  was  afterwards  made,  and  known 
as  Nonantum. 

In  company  with  three  friends,  Eliot,  as  a  messen- 
ger of  Heavenly  Love,  pushed  through  the  oak  woods, 
red  with  the  flush  of  October,  dark  with  fragrant 
pines,  and  bright  with  gaudy,  autumnal  flowers.  The 
clear,  cold  air  kindled  the  pulse  of  his  high  purpose, 
and  when,  from  openings  in  the  forest,  he  looked  afar 


JOHN    ELIOT.  330 

over  Boston,  with  its  leafy  hills  and  smoky  villages, 
and,  beyond,  over  the  islanded  bay,  with  its  lone  lit- 
tle vessel  or  two,  and  the  distant  sea,  lost  in  purple 
haze,  he  thought,  perhaps,  not  of  a  future  metropolis 
that  would  cover  the  whole  scene  with  roof  and  sail, 
but  of  the  time  when  the  whole  land  in  sight  would 
be  a  cultivated  garden,  where  the  red  man  and  white 
man  should  live  in  neighborly  and  equally  enlight- 
ened communities. 

On  their  w^ay  they  were  met  by  "Waban,  who  was 
called  '^  chief  minister  of  justice,"  among  the  Indians, 
and  had,  more  than  any  other,  exhibited  an  encoura- 
ging spirit,  having,  of  his  own  accord,  offered  his  eldest 
son  to  be  educated  by  the  Christians.  In  his  wigwam 
the  natives  were  assembled  to  hear  the  religious  ser- 
vice. This  was  commenced  by  an  English  prayer, 
inasmuch  as  Eliot  was  not  familiar  enough  with  their 
lanofuagre  to  use  it  with  freedom  in  devotions.  For 
the  preaching  he  had  made  more  preparation,  and 
had  the  assistance  of  an  interpreter.  He  took  for  his 
text  the  words  of  Ezekiel,  beginning,  ''  Prophesy  unto 
the  winds,"  &c.,  words  which  seemed  providential, 
the  name  of  the  foremost  Indian,  Waban,  signifying 
"  wind  ;  "  the  text  having  been  selected  with  no  ref- 
erence to  the  coincidence,  and  the  -esult  being  that 
"Waban  became  a  very  constant  and  active  believer. 
The  ten  commandments,  the  outline  of  scriptural  his- 
tory, and  the  first  truths  of  the  Gospel,  were  the  sub 
jects  of  the  discourse,  w^hich,  according  to  the  custom 
of  the  time,  was  an  hour  and  a  quarter  long,  yet  was 


S40         DISCOVERERS    AKD   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

listened  to  by  the  heatlien  audience  with  attentive 
curiosity  and  varying  emotions.  It  was  a  noble  scene 
—  this  learned  man  and  influential  divine,  in  a  wig- 
wam of  coarse  mats,  standing  up  in  a  little  company 
of  wild  hunters  and  warriors,  dark  in  feature  and  soul, 
explaining  to  them  the  sublimest  truths  in  the  sim- 
plest terms  and  illustrations.  A  narrative,  written 
at  the  time,  speaks  of  it  as  a  breaking  of  the  pre- 
cious alabaster  box,  in  the  gloomy  habitations  of  the 
unclean. 

"When  Eliot  had  finished  his  message  from  God,  the 
simple,  child-like,  yet  often  shrewd,  audience  plied 
him  with  questions,  such  as  these :  Whether  God 
could  understand  prayers  in  the  Indian  language  : 
whether  He  would  be  offended  with  the  good  child 
of  a  bad  parent :  how  the  earth  had  become  so  full 
of  people  since  the  flood.  In  reply  to  Eliot's  ques- 
tions, they  seemed  to  have  no  great  difficulty  in  un- 
derstanding the  invisible  and  omnipresent  nature  of 
God,  and  to  be  aware  of  the  guilt  of  sin,  and  of  the 
immortality  of  the  soul.  Upon  parting,  they  ex- 
pressed a  strong  desire  to  erect  a  permanent  village, 
and  to  avail  themselves  of  the  teachings  to  which 
they  had  intently  listened.  Eliot  left  them  cheered 
and  hopeful,  and  gained  the  good  will  of  the  little 
troop  that  always  enlivened  an  Indian  encampment, 
by  judiciously  distributing  gifts  among  them,  reserv- 
ing a  present  of  tobacco  for  the  old  men. 

Two  weeks  afterwards  the  same  scene  was  re- 
peated, though,  now,  the  questions  of  ^he  natives 


JOHN   ELIOT.  341 

were,  whether  an  old  man  could  repent :  how  the 
Heavenly  Father  came  to  be  more  known  to  the 
English  :  how  he  might  be  served,  —  points  that  were 
appropriately  described  by  the  relation  of  father  and 
child.  They  also,  wished  to  know  why  the  ocean  is 
salt  and  does  not  overflow  the  land,  if  the  world  be  a 
globe ;  likewise,  if  a  thief,  having  made  restitution, 
would  be  exposed  to  Divine  penalty.  During  the 
closing  prayer,  in  their  own  language,  one  of  the  In- 
dians wept,  being  convinced  by  the  truth.  Conver- 
sation with  him,  and  interest  in  those  who  clustered 
about  him,  eager  to  know  the  virtues  of  the  "  living 
water,"  detained  the  devoted  missionary  till  sunset. 

The  next  Saturday  night,  a  native  brought  his  own 
son  and  three  other  young  children  to  Mr.  Eliot's 
house,  to  be  retained  and  educated  in  the  English 
faith ;  and  soon  afterwards  the  Indians  offered  all 
their  children  for  this  purpose.  Skillful  and  frugal 
as  his  good  wife  was,  it  was  impossible  to  take  all 
the  wild  little  savages  of  the  tribe  into  his  own  abode, 
by  no  means  spacious  ;  yet  he  knew,  with  the  Ro- 
manists, that  children  are  the  great  hope  in  estab- 
lishing any  system  of  faith  —  a  truth,  like  the  air,  or 
daylight,  so  familiar  that  few  think  of  its  amazing 
importance.  The  establishment  of  a  school  was  im- 
mediately agreed  upon. 

The  results  of  Eliot's  first  year  of  labor  were  highly 
satisfactory.     The  winter  proved  favorable  to  his  ex 
cursions  through  the  forest,  for  it  is  singularly  re 
corded  by  him,  that   no   snow  fell,  and   no  sharp 


Si2         DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

weather  was  experienced.  Thus  favored  by  Provi- 
dence,  he  in^proved  the  time  so  assiduously,  that,  in 
the  following  spring,  the  Indians,  under  his  direction, 
built  the  villao;e  of  Konantum  —  a  name  that  sie-ni- 
lies  "  rejoicing"  —  tlms  happily  commemorating  the 
success  of  the  Gospel  among  them.  They  passed 
laws  for  themselves,  to  promote  virtue  and  industry ; 
and  erected  huts  of  bark,  with  separate  rooms.  Eliot 
supplied  them  with  spades  and  other  tools,  and  gave 
them  a  sixpence  for  every  rod  of  ditch  or  wall  which 
they  finished  with  their  own  hands. 

Among  other  changes  instituted  by  their  revered 
teacher,  was  the  cutting  of  tlie  scalp-lock,  in  which 
the  Indian  takes  great  pride.  The  ridicule  and  laugh- 
ter of  their  unsubdued  companions  was  the  result,  at 
wliich  they  much  complained.  That  they  bore  it, 
however,  was  then  esteemed  a  great  j)roof  of  the 
power  of  the  Gospel. 

With  his  unfailing  good  judgment,  Eliot  saw  that 
social  order,  with  its  habits  of  cleanliness,  labor  and 
a  sufficiency  of  comforts,  is  indispensable  to  the  suc- 
cess of  a  spiritual  reformation.  The  experiment  which 
a  living  and  no  less  worthy  apostle  is  now  making  in 
the  dens  of  city  iniquity,  was  then  triumphantly^  made, 
in  other  ways,  by  Eliot.  "  By  his  direction,  they 
fenced  their  ground  with  ditches  and  stone  walls,  some 
of  which  were  remembered  by  persons  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  last  century.  Their  women  partook  of  the 
spirit  of  improvement,  and  became  skillful  spinners, 
their  good  teacher,  himself,  taking  pains  to  obtain 


JOHN   ELICT.  343 

wheels  for  them.  Tliey  began  to  experience  the  stim- 
ulating advantages  of  trafHc,  and  found  soniethinc  to 
carry  to  market  in  the  neighboring  towns.  In  the 
winter,  they  sold  brooms,  staves,  eel-pots,  baskets,  and 
turkeys  ;  in  the  summer,  whortleberries,  grapes,  and 
fish  ;  in  the  spring  and  autumn,  strawberries,  cranber- 
ries and  venison.  In  the  season  of  harvest,  they  some- 
times worked  on  wages  for  their  English  neighbors, 
but  were  not  found  to  be  hardy  or  persevering  la- 
borers." 

Hearinoj  of  this  sin^rular  settlement,  a  sachem  came 
from  Concord  to  behold  the  wonder  with  his  own  eyes, 
and  to  hear  the  new  faith  which  had  been  adopted  by 
his  brother  warriors.  He  was  deeply  impressed  by 
Eliot's  teachings,  and  so  pleased  with  the  new  village 
that,  upon  his  return  home,  he  organized  a  similar 
one,  afterwards  known  as  Washobah,  and  which  was 
often  visited  by  the  never-tiring  apostle.  These,  with 
other  similar  communities,  soon  became  known  as 
*^  praying  Indians,"  family  prayer  being  a  universal 
custom  with  them,  whether  they  had  met  with  any 
marked  religious  experience  or  not,  as,  indeed,  it 
should  be  in  every  household  that  acknowledges  the 
true  God. 

The  various  well-ordered  hamlets  were  noticed  by 
the  General  Court,  which  established  a  quarterly  tri- 
bunal at  each  village,  authorizing  the  Indians  to  try 
certain  cases  of  misdemeanor  amono;  themselves.  The 
Synod  of  churches,  also,  became  interested  in  the 
work,  and  invited  the  converted  natives  to  join  an  as- 


344         DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    A:^IERICA. 

cemblage  of  that  body  at  Cambridge,  in  June,  1647 
The  reverend  dignitaries  of  the  church,  even  in  those 
times  of  starched  formality  and  stately  procedure, 
already  deemed  the  enterprise  of  such  importance 
that  they  sat  in  company  with  the  half-reclaimed  and 
half-clothed  roamers  of  the  wilderness  and  their  wild- 
eyed  children,  listening  to  a  sermon  from  Eliot,  in  the 
heathenish  language,  and,  like  the  grand  old  Doctors 
in  the  Jewish  Temple,  when  the  youthful  Jesus  ques- 
tioned them,  hearing  the  many  inquiries  proposed,  as 
usual,  by  those  bronzed  warriors,  who  were  yet  infants 
in  divine  knowledge. 

How  to  know  the  good  from  the  bad  ;  why  God  did 
not  give  all  men  good  hearts,  and  why  he  did  not  kill 
the  devil ;  why  the  good  are  afflicted  ;  what  becomes 
of  children  after  death  ;  whether  the  ignorant  shall 
be  punished  ;  if  the  soul  could  escape  from  a  case  of 
iron  a  foot  thick, —  were  questions  often  proposed, 
and  would  perplex  unintelligent  minds  at  this  day. 
Their  shrewdness  often  excited  a  smile,  and  their 
quick  perception  of  inconsistency  required  peculiar 
watchfulness  and  wisdom  on  the  part  of  their  teacher. 

Many  anecdotes  are  chronicled,  which  exhibit 
Eliot's  ready  tact  and  good  sense  in  meeting  the  diffi- 
culties of  his  work.  The  son  of  a  sachem,  with  whom 
a  treaty,  which,  vastly  unlike  modern  treaties,  included 
the  Ten  Commandments,  had  been  made  by  the  col- 
ony, would  not  repeat  the  fifth  —  to  "honor  thy  fa- 
ther," &c.,  because  his  father  compelled  him  to  drink 
a  wine  then  called  sack     The  son  was  rebuked  for 


JOHN    ELIOT.  345 

irreverence,  and  the  sachem  publicly  lectured  for  his 
conduct  towards  his  son.  The  result  was,  that  both 
were  brought  to  penitent  tears,  "  the  subduing  spirit 
of  love  bursting  forth  in  the  bosom  of  the  savages, 
like  a  beautiful  wild-flower  from  the  cleft  of  a  rock," 
or  like  the  first  tenderness  instilled  into  the  heart  of 
poor  "  Topsey  "  by  the  love  of  gentle  "  Eva."  The 
sachem  subsequently  caused  much  trouble  by  his  va- 
riable moods.  It  was  to  him  that  Eliot  affirmed  his 
resolution  to  do  God's  work,  so  fearlessly  that  the  wild 
chief  cowered  into  meek  assent ;  and  when,  still  later, 
his  ambition  and  avarice,  as  a  sachem,  led  him  to  new 
plots  against  the  missionary  work,  he  was  again  over 
whelmed  by  a  public  lecture.  All  complaints  and 
evils  were  carefully  investigated  by  Eliot,  so  that  the 
arrows  of  his  kind  rebuke  usually  hit  the  center  of 
the  mark. 

The  way  in  which  he  met  the  physical  and  moral 
wants  of  his  uncivilized  disciples,  was  at  all  times 
praiseworthy,  and  may  convey  lessons  to  later  gene- 
rations. "When  they  were  discouraged  from  devo- 
tional duty  by  their  ungodly  brethren,  who  told  them 
that  no  better  clothes  and  corn  were  gained  by  pray- 
ing, but  much  pleasure  lost,  he  held  up  his  little  finger 
and  thumb,  showing  that  there  are  little  blessings, 
such  as  clothes,  homes,  food,  and  great  blessings,  such 
as  heavenly  wisdom  and  eternal  life. 

Having  succeeded  so  well  thus  far,  Eliot  deter- 
mined to  extend  his  labors.  Kear  the  Merrimac 
River,  lived  Passaconaway,  a  chief  of  great  power, 


Z4:6        DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

who  was  acknowledged  as  a  superior  by  many  sa- 
chems. He  was  already  old,  and  is  said  to  have  lived 
to  the  age  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  years.  He  was 
considered  a  powaw  of  extraordinary  skill,  his  sub- 
jects asserting  that  he  could  make  a  green  leaf  grow 
in  winter,  put  the  trees  into  a  dance,  and  set  water 
on  fire.  This  chief,  Eliot,  with  several  English 
friends  and  converted  Indians,  visited,  in  1647.  Up- 
on their  approach  to  his  domains,  Passaconaway  fled, 
leaving  his  people  to  receive  the  comers  as  best  they 
might,  and  it  was  not  until  the  following  year  that  he 
could  be  persuaded  to  listen  to  Eliot's  preaching. 

That  indefatigable  laborer  took  advantage  of  an  an- 
nual gathering  of  his  tribe  at  a  great  fishing-place. 
While  at  the  height  of  noisy  carousal,  Eliot  appeared 
among  them  unarmed,  and  almost  unattended,  but 
with  an  undaunted  presence,  that  efi'ectually  checked 
any  hostile  purpose.  His  situation  called  for  rare 
courage  and  wisdom  ;  coming,  as  he  did,  to  proclaim 
new  doctrines,  and  to  overturn  their  long-established 
and  cherished  customs.  But  with  an  air  of  fatherly 
authority,  he  hushed  the  multitude  and  gathered  them 
about  him.  Seated  in  a  half-circle,  under  the  arching 
trees,  they  maintained  a  respectful  silence  ;  even  the 
obstinate  chieftain  was  constrained  to  submit  to  the 
apostle's  sudden  and  skillful  coup  d'etat,  and,  like 
certain  other  royal  personages,  heard  a  new  and  unpal- 
atable code  of  laws  expounded  to  his  peoj^le.  At  first 
he  listened  with  dogged  sullenness,  but  ere  long  the 
heart-felt  eloquence  of  the  earnest  teacher  thawed  tho 


JOHN    ELIOT. 


347 


icy  case  into  wliicli  he  had  gathered  himself,  like  a 
snail  in  its  shell.  A  furtive  glance,  now  and  then, 
betrayed  his  awakening  interest,  and  soon,  forgetting 
his  desire  to  conceal  it,  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the 
speaker,  and  tears  were  chasing  over  his  furrowed 
cheeks.  When  Eliot  closed,  he  avowed  his  solemn 
purpose  to  practice  prayer,  and  urged  his  sons  to  fol- 
low his  example. 

At  parting,  Eliot  distributed  various  gifts  among 
them,  to  conciliate  their  good  will,  which  he  had  cer- 
tainly gained  already ;  for,  as  he  was  mounting  his 
horse,  a  poor  Indian  timidly  put  in  his  hand  a  penny- 
worth of  wampum.  He  gratefully  received  it,  "  see- 
ing so  much  hearty  affection  in  so  small  a  thing." 

Passaconaway,  afterwards,  strongly  urged  Eliot  to 
come  and  live  among  his  people,  using  this  uncom- 
monly refined  argument  in  support  of  his  entreaty : 
"You  do,"  said  ho,  "  as  if  one  should  come  and  throw 
a  fine  thing  among  us,  and  we  should  catch  at  it  earn- 
estly, because  it  appears  so  beautiful,  but  cannot  look 
at  it  to  see  what  is  within ;  but  if  you  will  stay  with 
us,  and  open  it  to  us,  and  show  us  all  within,  we  shall 
believe  it  to  be  as  good  as  you  say  it  is."     The  good 
man  acknowledged  that  the  gospel  needed  to  be  heard 
oftener  to  be  understood,  but,  considering  his  Nonan- 
tum    disciples    were    best  fitted   to   form    a   center 
of  influence,  he  deferred  the  subject,  though  his  at 
tached  ^proteges,  willing  to  obey  him  in  anything,  of 
fered  to  abandon  their  present  site  and  go  to  the  pro- 
posed region. 


348  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIOJSTEEES    OF   AMERICA. 

Eliot  was  never  idle.  He  traveled  from  one  of  Lis 
Indian  stations  to  another,  fearless  of  the  dangers  of 
the  wilderness,  and  boldly  passing  through  regions  he 
knew  to  be  peopled  by  disaffected  Indians,  or  to  be 
the  scenes  of  cold-blooded  murders.  On  one  occa- 
sion, notwithstanding  the  prudent  advice  of  his  Kox- 
burj  charge,  he  traversed  a  large  and  wild  section  of 
country,  penetrating  to  the  center  of  the  present  State 
of  Massachusetts.  It  was  enough  for  him  to  receive 
a  message  from  an  unseen  chieftain,  desiring  him  to 
bring  tidings  of  liis  God.  l^othing  could  prevent  his 
prompt  assent  to  such  an  invitation.  Finding  him  res- 
olute, several  friends  accompanied  him  on  this  long, 
weary  journey,  during  which,  as  was  often  the  case  in 
his  excursions,  "  from  Tuesday  to  Saturday,  he  was 
never  dry.  At  night  he  would  pull  off  his  boots, 
wring  the  water  from  his  stockings,  and  put  them  on 
again."  The  rivers  were  swollen  by  the  rains  ;  and,  as 
the  men  made  their  way  through  them  on  hoiseback, 
they  were  still  more  wet.  Eliot's  horse  failed  from 
exhaustion,  and  he  was  obliged  to  let  him  go  without 
a  rider,  and  take  one  belonging  to  another  person. 
But  he  says,  with  his  usual  cheerful  piety,  "  I  consid- 
ered that  word  of  God  :  '  Endure  hardness  as  a  good 
soldier  of  Christ.' " 

Another  of  his  principal  tours  was  to  Yarmouth,  on 
Cape  Cod,  where  a  council  of  churches  was  invited 
to  harmonize  certain  difficulties.  Eliot  was  too  full 
of  unflagging  zeal  to  lose  so  good  an  opportunity  to 
do  his  chosen  work,  and,  accordingly,  gathered  the 


JOHN    ELIOT.  349 

natives  who  frequented  tlie  level,  sandy  meadows  and 
pine  woods  of  the  cape.  But  he  found  their  dialect 
so  different  as  to  prevent  the  ready  communication 
of  truth,  and  was  further  impeded  by  a  fierce  sachem, 
called  by  the  English.  Jehu,  who  sent  his  subjects  off 
to  fish,  at  the  hour  of  religious  service.  Another  sa- 
chem and  his  followers,  however,  consoled  the  devo- 
ted evangelist  by  their  good  attention. 

Some  old  traditions  were  brought  to  light  on  this 
occasion.  An  old  Indian  said,  in  substance,  that  "  the 
very  things  which  Mr.  Eliot  had  just  taught  concern- 
ing the  creation,  the  nature  of  God  and  his  com- 
mandments, had  been  said  years  ago  by  some  old  men 
among  them,  who  were  now  dead,  and  since  whose 
death,  all  knowledge  of  these  doctrines  had  been  lost, 
till  then  revived.  Their  forefathers  once  knew  God, 
but  fell  into  a  heavy  sleep  (or  forgetfulness),  and  when 
they  awoke,  they  had  forgotten  him."  One  of  the 
Indians  related  a  wonderful  dream,  which  he  had  be- 
fore the  landing  of  the  English.  He  saw  "  a  multi- 
tude of  men  coming  to  that  region,  dressed  in  such 
garments  as  he  now  found  the  English  to  w^ear. 
Among  them  was  one  man  all  in  black,  with  some- 
thing in  his  hand,  which  he  now  discovered  to  be  a 
book.  The  man  stood  higher  than  the  rest,  and  as- 
sured the  Indians  that  God  was  angry  with  them,  and 
would  destroy  them  for  their  sins."  A  pestilence  was 
raging  at  the  time  of  the  dream,  to  the  destruction 
of  many  natives.  The  tradition  and  the  vision  can 
be  explained  by  the  fact  that  a  French  ship  had  been 


350  DISCO YERERS    AND    PIONEEitS    OF    AMERICA. 

wrecked  on  tliat  coast  thirty  years  before  ;  the  crew 
were  saved,  and  with  them  a  priest,  but  nearly  all 
were  massacred.  One  of  the  number  lived  Ions: 
enough  to  instruct  them,  and  threatened  them  with 
destruction  from  God,  who  would  give  their  land  to 
another  nation.  The  fatal  plague,  after  the  stranger's 
death,  seemed  a  partial  fulfillment  of  the  prediction, 
and  impressed  it  upon  their  minds. 

Meanwhile  the  small  beginnings  of  civilization  at 
ISTonantum,  went  encouragingly  on.  Fruit-trees  were 
sent  from  England  for  the  plantation,  and  frequent 
sums  of  money  bestowed  both  by  the  colonists  and 
by  the  friends  at  home,  for  the  purchasing  of  tools 
and  implements  of  labor,  and  for  obtaining  teachers 
for  the  children's  school,  which  "  came  on  very  pret- 
tily." Eliot  obtained  proper  tools  for  the  new  work- 
men, with  great  difficulty  ;  so  much  trouble  did  he 
experience  in  this  respect,  that  he  was  obliged  still  to 
postpone  his  favorite  plan  of  a  model  Indian  settle- 
ment. The  docile  savages  had,  nevertheless,  learned 
to  saw  boards  and  planks,  and  had  accomplished  much 
ditching  and  fencing. 

Accounts  of  these  efforts  reachino^  England,  much 
interest  was  excited  among  the  pious  and  benevolent, 
which  resulted  in  the  formation  of  a  society.  An  act 
for  its  incorporation  was  passed  in  Parliament,  and 
read  in  all  the  pulpits  of  England  and  Wales,  where 
collections  were  also  taken  up,  though  with  little 
success.  The  Society  was  slandered,  and  at  the  res- 
toration of  Charles  11.,  its  very  existence  was  endan- 


JOHN    ELIOT.  351 

gered ;  but  it  was  preserved;  a  new  charter  was 
granted  tlirougli  the  influence  of  Baxter,  Robert 
Boyle  and  the  Earl  of  Clarendon,  and  a  large  fund 
was  finally  raised  to  pay  salaries,  support  schools,  sup- 
ply implements,  found  an  Indian  college,  and  print 
Eliot's  translation  of  the  Bible,  together  with  other 
books. 

While  all  this  was  being  accomplished,  Eliot  suf- 
fered many  discouragements.  Conceited  persons,  who 
had  taken  no  pains  to  visit  the  scenes  of  religious  op- 
eration, and  had  taken  their  impressions  of  the  red 
men  from  the  thievish  loiterers  around  tlie  English 
towns,  returned  to  England  and  disparaged  the  whcxe 
work,  in  the  way  that  many  now  libel  the  missionary 
enterj^rises.  The  powaws  and  sachems  created  near- 
er trouble.  They  grew  more  desperate  in  their  oppo- 
sition to  the  new  religion,  as  they  saw  their  hitherto 
absolute  power  decreasing  before  the  light  of  truth ; 
for  it  is  always  the  fact  that  "  neither  in  the  splendid 
palace,  nor  in  the  cabins  of  the  forest,  is  man  willing 
to  resign  arbitrary  power,  so  long  as  he  can  hold  it." 
Some  of  the  sachems  banished  the  "  praying  Indians  " 
from  their  tribes,  and,  as  was  affirmed,  in  some  casss 
put  them  to  death.  Eliot,  however,  withstood  the 
sorcerers  and  sagamores  to  the  face,  knowing  they 
feared  both  his  calm  courage  and  the  power  of  the 
English,  and  trusting,  at  all  events,  in  the  protection 
of  God.  More  than  once,  he  declared  to  them  that 
he  was  engaged  in  the  work  of  God,  that  he  did  not 


352  DISCOVERERS    AND    nONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

fear  all  the  sacliems  in  the  country,  and  they  might 
touch  him  if  they  dared. 

Added  to  these  discouragements,  the  expected  sup- 
plies from  England  did  not  arrive.  Believing  it  to 
be  a  judgment  from  Heaven,  Eliot  appointed  a  day 
of  fasting  and  prayer.  This  long-wished  assistance 
arrived  while  they  were  keeping  the  religious  appoint- 
ment, and  was  joyfully  received  as  an  answer  to 
their  prayers. 

Eliot  saw  his  hopes  at  last  about  to  be  realized. 
The  means,  so  earnestly  prayed  for,  were  now  his,  to 
execute  his  chief  design  of  gathering  the  scattered  con- 
verts to  a  central  spot  in  one  flourishing  settlement,  at 
a  distance  from  the  English.  With  this  in  view  he 
rode  into  the  country,  to  inspect  a  proposed  site  for 
it ;  and,  with  that  most  reasonable  reliance  upon  Pro- 
vidence in  the  least  transaction,  he  stopped  on  his 
way,  and,  selecting  a  lonely  spot,  distant  from  the 
beaten  path,  he  prayed  for  Divine  direction.  Soon 
after,  he  met  a  few  Indians  who  recommended  to  him 
the  place  afterwards  called  ISTatick.  This  meeting 
and  advice  proved  so  fortunate,  that  he  rightly  con- 
sidered it  as  truly  an  answer  to  his  prayer  as  if  he 
had  been  selecting  a  site  for  the  capital  of  a  power- 
ful empire. 

Natick  signifies  "  a  place  of  hills ;  "  and  is  eighteen 
miles  south-west  of  Boston,  on  Charles  river.  To  this 
spot  the  Indians  of  JS^onantum  prepared  to  remove. 
Their  first  w^ork  towards  it  was  throwing  a  foot-bridge 
across  the  stream,  eighty  feet  in  length,  and  nine  feet 


JOHN   ELIOT.  353 

in  height  at  the  center.  This  accomplished,  they  com- 
menced building  the  village,  with  much  enthusiasm. 
"Tlieir  town  was  laid  out  in  three  streets,  two  on  one 
side,  and  one  on  the  other  side  of  the  river.  Apple- 
trees  were  planted,  and  grain  was  sowed.  A  house- 
lot  was  assigned  to  each  family,  and  it  is  said  that 
some  of  the  cellars  upon  them  may  be  seen  at  the 
present  day.  They  built  a  circular  fort,  palisaded 
with  trees,  and  a  large  house  in  the  English  style,  tho 
lower  part  of  which  was  to  be  used  for  public  wor- 
ship on  the  Sabbath,  and  for  a  school-room  on  other 
days,  while  the  upper  part  was  appropriated  as  a 
wardrobe,  and  as  a  depository  for  valuable  commod- 
ities. Part  of  this  room  was  partitioned  off  for  Eliot's 
use,  and  there  he  had  a  bed."  The  house  was  built 
entirely  by  the  Indians,  with  the  exception  of  one 
day's  work  by  an  English  carpenter.  Wigwams  out- 
numbered frame  houses  in  the  settlement,  as  the  red 
men  were  not  yet  free  from  their  inherited  and  long- 
indulged  taste  for  a  simple,  rude  life. 

It  was  a  ruling  idea  of  Eliot,  as  of  the  Puritans 
generally,  that  all  human  laws  should  be  copied  di- 
rectly from  the  Bible  ;  and  in  order  to  find  civil  laws 
recourse  was  had  to  the  book  of  Moses.  The  good 
man,  therefore,  rejoiced  that,  while  other  nations,  in 
his  own  words,  would  be  unwilling  to  lay  down  the 
imperfect  star-light  of  their  laws,  for  the  perfect  sun- 
liglit  of  the  Scriptures,  the  Indians  would  yield  to 
any  direction  from  the  Lord,  being  simple  in  heart 
and  customs.      "  Tliey  shall  be  wholly  governed  by 

23 


354         DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

the  Scriptures  in  all  things,  both  in  Church  and 
State,"  he  said  ;  and  he  added,  "  Oh,  the  blessed  day 
in  Enofland,  when  the  Word  of  God  shall  be  their 
Magna  Charta,  and  chief  law-book,  and  when  all  law- 
yers must  be  divines  to  study  the  Scriptures." 

Ao-reeably  to  these  views,  the  people  of  Katick, 
like  the  Israelites,  were  divided  into  hundreds,  fifties 
and  tens,  each  number  with  a  ruler  —  those  over  the 
tens  being  called  "  tithing-men."  A  day  of  fasting 
and  prayer  was  appointed,  when  the  natives  entered 
into  a  solemn  covenant  to  observe  the  form  of  gov- 
ernment. The  day  was  spent  in  religious  exercises 
conducted  by  them,  as  well  as  by  Eliot.  The  new 
converts  expounded  the  Bible  so  w^ell  that  Governor 
Endicot  and  others,  who  visited  Natick  not  long  after 
this  fast-day,  w^ere  pleasantly  surprised  at  the  clear- 
ness and  beauty  with  which  they  explained  the  para- 
bles of  Christ.  Lips  that,  until  within  a  few  months 
of  that  time,  had  been  used  to  the  war-whoop  and 
the  language  of  earth  only,  now  nttered  the  gentle 
teachings  of  heaven  ;  woods  that  had  resounded  only 
to  the  wind,  the  thunder,  the  cry  of  the  w^ild  beast 
and  of  the  hunter,  now  echoed  the  words  of  christian 
exliultation  and  resounded  w^ith  sacred  hymns.  Mr, 
Wilson  described  a  psalm  translated  into  the  Indian 
language  as  sung  "  in  one  of  our  ordinary  English 
tunes  melodiously,"  and  speaks  of  the  Indian  preach- 
ing as  marked  w^ith  "great  devotion,  gravity,  decen- 
cy, readiness  and  affection."  The  visitors  were  par- 
ticularly struck  with  the  excellence  of  the  foot-bridge, 


JOHN     ELIOT.  ,  355 


wliich,  to  the  delight  of  the  builders,  had  endured, 
while  one  constructed  by  the  English  in  the  vicinity, 
had  been  swept  away  by  the  floods.  They  also  no- 
ticed the  European  drums,  skillfully  made  by  the 
natives,  and  used,  as  in  the  white  settlements  then,  to 
call  the  people  to  all  public  meetings. 

The  wisdom  of  preparing  and  employing  native 
teachers  to  spread  the  gospel  among  those  of  their 
own  blood,  was  deeply  felt  by  Eliot,  and  much  effort 
was  nsed  to  this  end.  One  of  these  had  learned  to 
write  correctly  and  became  a  schoolmaster  at  l^atick. 
Some  were  sent  to  the  E'arragansets  and  other  tribes, 
to  proclaim  the  truth,  and  met  with  some  encourage- 
ment. A  company  of  Indians  from  Martha's  Vine- 
yard, who  had  accepted  the  white  man's  faith,  visited 
Eliot's  especial  disciples  and  were  then  first  aston- 
ished at  the  strange,  new  sympathies  inspired  by 
Christianity.  "  How  is  it,"  they  said,  "  that  when  an 
Indian,  whom  we  never  saw  before,  comes  among  us, 
and  we  find  that  he  prays  to  God,  we  love  him  ex- 
ceedingly ?  "  The  ready  apostle  improved  the  oppor- 
tunity to  illustrate  the  principle  of  Christian  love  fur- 
ther, by  mentioning  the  efforts  made  in  their  behalf 
by  the  friends  of  religion  who  lived  thousands  of 
miles  off,  across  the  great  sea. 

Industry  and  piety  were  now  fairly  planted  at 
Katick,  and  were  putting  forth  the  flowers  and  fruits 
of  moral  beauty,  amidst  all  the  wild  loveliness  of 
nature,  and  the  nntrained  simplicity  of  man.  In  the 
rich  words  of  a  late  writer,  "As  we  pass,  in  fancy, 


350         DISCOVEREKS   AND    PIONEEES   OF    AMEKICA. 

out  from  tlie  brick  walls,  narrow  streets,  and  inter 
rupted  landscape  of  civilized  life,  with  what  imposing 
greatness  bursts  upon  our  thought  the  form  of  the  un- 
adulterated savage,  with  his  eye  like  an  eagle's,  his 
ear  like  the  startled  fawn's,  and  his  step  like  the  pan- 
ther of  the  wilderness.  This  is  not  sensualism,  but 
the  perfection  of  the  sensuous  nature  ;  it  is  the  human 
form  in  harmony  with  untroubled  streams  and  un- 
broken forests  —  belonging,  in  no  mean  relation,  to 
the  picture  that  is  arched  by  the  receding  heavens. 
But,  graceful  as  power,  agility,  freedom,  are,  we  in- 
stinctively feel  how  low  a  phase  of  humanity  it  is, 
compared  with  the  intellectual  vigor  of  the  sage,  or 
the  moral  princedom  of  the  saint."  The  mind  and 
soul  of  the  Indian  had  begun  to  unfold  under  the  as- 
siduous labor  of  Eliot,  and  his  roving  habits  were 
slowly  crystallizing  into  civilized  forms.  Even  the 
young  children,  accustomed  hitherto  to  bound  with 
the  wild  antelopes,  over  their  unlimited  play-ground, 
and,  in  view  of  eternity,  almost  as  soulless  as  their 
untamed  pets,  listened,  like  the  child  Samuel,  and 
obeyed  the  calling  voice  of  God.  One  infant  angel 
of  the  wilderness,  wlien  offered  its  toys,  while  upon 
its  death-bed,  replied  in  sweet  words,  which  seem  al- 
most an  inspired  song :  "  I  will  leave  my  basket  be- 
hind me,  for  I  am  going  to  God ;  I  will  leave  my 
spoon  and  tray  behind  me,  for  I  am  going  to  God." 
The  little  one  was  laid  in  the  grave,  without  the 
beads,  the  shells,  the  wampum,  and  the  food  which 
the  3'earning  affection  of  the  Indian  mother  had  al- 


JOHN    ELIOT.  357 

ways  placed  beside  her  dead,  thinking  to  supply  its 
wants  when  wandering  without  her  in  the  spirit 
world.  The  missionary's  message  had  given  her 
courage  and  peace,  in  consigning  her  tender  child  to 
the  arms  of  Christ.  The  superstitious  burial  customs 
which  Eliot  sought  to  set  aside,  need  no  comment, 
when  the  equally  heathenish  practice  now  so  exten- 
sively exists  in  our  beautifully  designed  cemeteries, 
of  ornamenting  the  graves  of  children  with  the  shoes, 
stockings,  baby-bonnets,  dolls,  tea-sets,  and  rocking- 
horses,  which  occupied  their  busy  lives. 

The  year  1661  is  memorable  in  the  annals  of  'New 
England,  for  the  publication  of  Eliot's  Indian  transla- 
tion of  the  IN'ew  Testament;  this,  and  the  Indian  Bible 
prepared  by  him,  and  printed  two  years  afterwards, 
were  the  first  published  in  the  New  World — the  print- 
ing of  the  English  version  being  then  a  monopoly  privi- 
lege in  England.  This  most  arduous  work  of  transla- 
tion had  extended  through  fifteen  years,  before  Eliot 
could  ofler  to  the  Indians  a  copy  of  God's  word,  in 
their  own  tongue.  The  language  was  Mohegan, 
which,  in  its  many  dialects,  was  spoken  by  all  the  ab- 
origines of  !N^ew  England.  The  first  complete  edition 
of  the  Bible,  numbering  fifteen  hundred  copies,  cost 
over  two  thousand  dollars.  Out  of  his  own  I'm'.ted 
means,  Eliot  saved  some  funds  to  this  end,  although 
the  expense  was  chiefly  borne  by  the  society  in  Eng- 
land. A  printing-press  was  sent  from  London  for  the 
purpose  ;  and,  for  a  long  time,  only  an  Englishman, 
a  boy,  and  an  Indian,  named  James  Printer,  were 


358  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

employed  on  tlie  work.  Copies  of  tlie  first  edition, 
beautifully  bound,  were  presented  to  King  Charles, 
and  to  distinguished  men  in  the  old  country,  among 
them  Richard  Baxter,  who  said,  "  Such  a  work  and 
fruit  of  a  plantation  was  never  before  presented  to  a 
king."  Copies  are  very  rare,  one  or  two  being  in  the 
library  of  Harvard  College,  and  containing,  besides 
the  Testament,  a  catechism,  and  the  Psalms  of  David, 
in  Indian  verse.  The  great  number  of  copies  printed, 
shows  the  wonderful  extent  of  the  missionary  work 
in  this  country  at  that  time. 

One  of  Eliot's  works  occasioned  much  disquietude 
in  the  colonies  about  this  time.  In  the  enthusiasm 
of  Cromwell's  revolution,  he  had  written  a  book  en- 
titled "  The  Christian  Commonwealth,"  which  con- 
demned the  institution  of  kings,  lords,  and  commons, 
as  unchristian,  and  probably  set  forth  his  idea  that 
the  Bible  is  a  complete  political  statute-book,  no  less 
than  a  spiritual  revelation.  On  the  restoration  of 
Charles  II.,  the  Kew  England  colonies,  already  ob- 
jects of  jealousy  to  the  royalists,  were  alarmed  lest 
Eliot's  book  would  prejudice  their  interests  with  the 
king.  The  council  at  Boston  condemned  it,  and  de 
manded  of  its  author  a  recantation  of  its  sentiments, 
which  he  yielded  to.  Eliot,  like  other  men,  had  his 
faults  and  weaknesses,  although  his  qualities  were  re- 
markably noble  and  symmetrical.  His  failings  seem 
to  have  been  the  assertion  of  opinions,  hasty  or  vision- 
ary, in  civil  matters,  and  his  apparent  inconsistency 
m  a  no  less  ready  retraction  of  such  opinions.     It  is 


JOHN   ELIOT.  350 

one  of  the  brightest  virtues  to  confess  immediately  an 
error ;  but  if  the  fearless  man,  who  trembled  not  at 
the  threats  of  passionate  sachems,  was  still  convinced 
of  the  truth  of  his  book,  it  appears  a  little  strange 
that  he  so  quickly  cancelled  it.  Doubtless  his  abju- 
ration was  from  the  same  motives  of  expediency  that 
influenced  the  council,  and  with  a  more  particular 
anxiety  for  his  Indian  missions,  which  were  supported 
by  the  mother  country,  and  dependant  on  a  renewal 
by  the  king  of  the  charter  of  the  society  for  their 
promotion. 

The  uninformed  are  liable  to  think  of  Eliot  as  an 
obscure  man,  who  wandered  about  with  some  vao:a- 
bond  tribe,  during  a  few  years,  and  not  as  the  truly 
great  leader  of  a  great  Christian  movement,  of  which 
he  was  the  main-spring,  for  some  forty  years.  The 
difficulties  of  his  work,  from  first  to  last,  were  inces- 
sant and  extreme — especially  in  translating  the  Bible. 
Besides  the  work  in  his  own  parish  of  Eoxbury,  his 
journeys  and  preaching,  his  poverty,  and  a  large 
family  to  care  for  and  educate,  he  had  to  contend 
with  a  language  poorly  adapted  to  the  expression  of 
religious  truth  and  civilized  ideas,  without  a  gram- 
mar and  dictionary.  An  amusing  instance  of  his  em- 
barrassment is  related.  The  best  word  he  could  ^et 
from  the  Indians  to  express  the  term  "  lattice,"  in  a 
passage  of  Scripture,  after  trying  to  describe  it  to 
them,  was  one  which  he  subsequently  found  to  be  a 
name  for  the  wicker  baskets,  used  in  catching  eels ; 
thi'ough  this,  the  mother  of  Sisera  was  made  to  look 


360         DISCOVERERS    ^"D    PIONEERS    OF    A^IERICA. 

for  the  coming  of  her  son.  The  translation,  generally, 
was,  doubtless,  very  correct,  and  at  last  quite  per- 
fect; but  it  is  sad  to  reflect  that  no  person  now. living 
can  read  it.  Yet,  though  both  the  language  and 
those  who  spoke  it,  are  long  since  dead,  the  Indian 
Bible  was  the  bread  of  life  to  we  know  not  how 
many  souls  now  shining  in  Heaven.  On  earth  it  is 
an  eloquent  monument  of  a  perseverance,  industry, 
and  pure  zeal,  never  surpassed.  In  the  words  of  Ed- 
ward Everett,  "Since  the  death  of  the  Apostle  Paul, 
a  nobler,  truer,  warmer  spirit,  than  John  Eliot,  never 
lived  ;  and,  taking  the  state  of  tlie  country,  the  nar- 
rowness of  the  means,  the  rudeness  of  the  age,  into 
consideration,  the  history  of  the  Christian  church 
does  not  contain  an  example  of  resolute,  untiring, 
successful  labor,  superior  to  that  of  translating  the 
entire  Scriptures  into  the  language  of  the  native  tribes 
of  Massachusetts." 

Besides  the  Bible,  he  translated  several  works  for 
the  use  of  his  Indian  people,  and  published  a  gram- 
mar, to  aid  the  study  of  those  who  might  wish  to  car- 
ry out  his  benevolent  designs ;  this  work,  tog  .:her 
with  the  lyiohegan  Bible,  has  been  found  very  valu- 
able, of  late,  in  the  scientific  investigation  of  language. 
One  of  his  smaller  works  was  an  "  Indian  Logick 
Primer ;  "  but  it  was  not  easy  for  the  savages  to  be- 
come expert  in  logic  and  theology  ;  they  readily  ap 
prehended  the  simple  truths  of  the  gospel,  as  famil- 
iarly illustrated  by  Eliot,  and  their  unsophisticated 
hearts  were,  perhaps,  all  the  better  fitted  to  receive 


JOHN    ELIOT.  361 

tliat  divine  illumination  which  is  often  blinded  by 
scholastic  words  and  systems.  The  Indian  could  not 
step  directly  out  of  loose  ways  of  thought  and  life, 
into  exact,  methodical  ones  ;  yet  he  could  pass  from 
one  belief  of  the  heart  to  another.  A  converted  chief 
said  of  this,  "  I  have  been  used,  all  my  life,  to  pass 
up  and  down  in  an  old  canoe  ;  but  I  now  give  myself 
up  to  your  advice,  enter  into  a  new  canoe,  and  do  en- 
gage to  pray  to  God,  hereafter,"  —  a  striking  figure  to 
which  one  of  the  company  present,  added,  that  in  the 
old  canoe,  the  stream  was  quiet,  but  the  end  destruc- 
tion, and,  in  the  new  one,  storms  might  overtake  him, 
but  the  end  would  be  everlasting  rest. 

In  1673,  and  the  following  year,  the  noble  and 
venerable  apostle  of  the  Indians  journeyed  through 
the  wilderness  from  one  station  to  another,  there  be- 
ing  fourteen  in  Massachusetts,  beside  those  in  Plym- 
outh, ITantucket,  and  Martha's  Yineyard.  This  last 
journey  of  Eliot's  was  full  of  rich  satisfaction  to  his 
ardent,  enthusiastic  soul.  As,  from  time  to  time,  he 
met  the  glad  faces  of  the  thirty -six  hundred  Christian 
natives,  whom  he  had  been  instrumental  in  rousing 
from  the  thralldom  of  superstition  and  sin,  he  felt  his 
courage  and  energy  revive,  and,  forgetting  the  bur- 
den of  laborious  years  that  already  enfeebled  his  steps, 
promised  himself  the  joy  of  reaping  a  still  greater 
harvest  for  his  God.  Hymns  of  gratitude  went  up 
from  the  forest  sanctuaries,  like  sweet  incense,  and 
the  eloquent  voice  of  the  aged  and  beloved  teacher 
rang  from  the  hills,  with  the  tidings  of  love  and  mer- 
P 


362  DISCO VEREKS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

cy  wliicli  lie  could  bring  to  tliem  no  more.  The  man- 
na which  he  thus  scattered  among  his  eager  listeners, 
served  to  streno^then  them  for  the  hard  trial  to  which 
God  was  soon  to  subject  their  faith. 

The  settlement  aiid  church  of  E'atick  were  espe- 
cially endeared  to  Eliot,  as  being  the  first  embodiment 
of  his  favorite  idea.  Five  churches  beside  the  one 
established  there,  were  the  result  of  his  untiring  zeal ; 
and  to  provide  for  their  future  w^elfare,  he  had  indu- 
ced two  of  his  ^Qr72i.gQ  proteges  to  be  educated  at  Har- 
vard University,  thus  leaving  no  means  untried,  of 
thoroughly  enlightening  and  highly  cultivating  the 
Indian  race.  These  two  pupils,  however,  were  not 
destined  to  fulfill  his  design.  One  of  them  was 
wrecked  and  murdered  at  Nantucket,  and  the  other 
died  of  consumption,  soon  after  graduating.  The 
name  of  the  latter  is  recorded,  on  the  catalogue  of  the 
college,  as  Caleb  Cheeshohteaumuck.  I^otwithstand- 
ing  these  melancholy  events,  the  efibrt  to  educate  the 
natives  was  continued.  A  brick  building  was  erect- 
ed at  Cambridge,  with  accommodations  for  twenty 
Indian  students.  But  it  proved  of  little  avail.  The 
young  Mohegans  lost  their  athletic,  robust  nature, 
when  taken  from  their  roving  life  in  the  woods,  and 
subjected  to  the  close  garments  and  staid  demeanor 
of  civilization,  or  found  the  change  too  sudden  from 
wild,  free  thought,  to  the  drill  of  study.  Thus  they 
either  pined  and  died  like  caged  birds,  or  sickened 
in  heart  and  fled  back  to  the  enticing  delighta 
of  the  forest  hunting-grounds.     It  was  not  then  a]> 


JOHN  ELIOT.  363 

predated  that  barbarism  and  civilization  are  in  the 
blood,  and  the  one  can  only  be  shaken  off,  and  the 
other  assumed,  by  the  slow  operation  of  education 
and  grace  in  several  generations. 

But  the  labor  of  years  was  destined  to  be  suddenly 
arrested,  and,  in  a  great  measure,  defeated.  King 
Philip's  war  —  a  general  onslaught  of  the  unevangel- 
ized  India^^s — burst  forth,  and  threw  every  thing 
into  confusion.  The  particulars  need  not  here  be  re- 
counted. The  colonists,  filled  w^ith  a  mad  spirit  of 
revenge  and  fear,  and  not  appreciating  either  the  faith 
or  friendship  of  the  Christian  natives,  broku  up  their 
half-civilized  towns,  and  carried  the  innocent  popu- 
lation to  islands  near  Boston,  where  they  were  con- 
fined, lest  they  might  take  part  with  Philip.  They 
sufi'ered  deeply  from  disappointment,  insult,  and  pri- 
vation ;  some  of  them,  at  Wamesit,  were  shot  by  a 
party  of  the  English,  who  unjustly  charged  them  with 
burning  a  barn. 

Thus  debarred  from  the  sympathy  of  the  race  for 
wdiose  faith  they  had  deserted  their  own  people  ;  ar- 
rayed against  those  to  whom  they  were  connected  by 
the  strongest  natural  ties,  yet  rejected  and  abused  by 
their  adopted  brothers,  who  should,  rather,  have  pro- 
tected and  encouraged  them,  it  remains  to  the  world 
an  indisputable  evidence  of  the  true  efi*ects  of  the 
gospel,  that  they,  almost  without  exception,  exhibited 
a  rare  spirit  of  Christian  endurance  and  forgiveness 
durino;  those  times  of  severe  trial  for  whicjh  Eliot  had 
nncionscoiisly  prepared  them,  in  his  last,  unmolested 


364:         DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

tour  through  the  wilderness,  l^one,  in  whose  piety 
he  confided,  renounced  their  faith  ;  none  but  a  few  of 
the  less  instructed  natives  at  new  stations,  joined  the 
enemy.  Many  of  the  friendly  ones  were  of  great 
service  to  the  English  in  carrying  on  so  unaccustomed 
a  kind  of  w^arfare.  But  confidence  between  the 
white  and  the  red  men  was  never  restored ;  the  ardor 
of  an  incipient  work  of  civilization  and  conversion 
was  thoroughly  chilled  ;  but  few  praying  villages  were 
reestablished,  and  the  prosperity  of  the  missions  was 
at  an  end.  A  great  hope  for  the  Indian  race  was  for- 
ever blasted,  although  many  were  then  strengthened 
and  purified  in  heart  by  the  fire  of  affliction. 

Eliot  consoled  his  old  age  and  disappointment  by 
writing  a  life  of  Christ,  and  by  endeavoring  to  rescue 
the  captive  Indians,  who  had  been  sold  into  West  In- 
dia slavery —  an  iniquity  that  aroused  his  whole  in- 
dignation. He  w^as  encouraged  by  the  hope  of  a 
successor,  in  the  person  of  a  young  man  who  had 
devoted  himself  to  the  cause  of  the  beloved  natives. 
In  a  letter,  written  when  he  was  eighty-four  years  old, 
after  making  the  touching  declaration  —  "I  am  draw- 
ing home  "  —  he  speaks  hopefully  of  the  great  object 
to  which  his  life  had  been  a  living  sacrifice.  He  was 
gratified,  also,  in  assisting  to  ordain  an  Indian  teacher, 
who  survived  the  death  of  Eliot  twenty-six  years, 
and  whose  grave-stone  is  now  part  of  a  stone  wall 
near  the  church  in  South  I^atick,  in  the  vicinity 
of  which  place,  a  wretched  hut,  occupied  by  several 
persons  of  mingled  Indian  and  negro  blood,  is  all 


JOHN   ELIOT.  865 

that  is  left  of  the  once  flourishing  settlement  of  the 
devout  children  of  the  forest. 

Eliot  was  in  advance  of  the  times,  in  reforms,  for 
he  had  very  few  supporters  of  the  pure  principles 
he  vigorously  exemplified  in  his  own  life,  as  well  as 
preached  to  others.  It  was  the  universal  custom  in 
the  colonies,  to  partake  of  spirituous  liquors  in  a 
moderate  degree.  Eliot  was  often  urged  to  refresh 
his  weariness  with  the  sparkling  contents  of  the  wine- 
glass. He  invariably  refused,  for,  said  he,  "  wine  is 
a  noble,  generous  liquor,  and  we  should  be  humbly 
thankful  for  it,  but,  as  I  remember,  water  was  made 
before  it."  He  also  wasred  a  continual  war  asrainst 
tobacco,  and  the  use  of  great,  white  wigs,  though  he 
lived  to  see  many  orthodox  ministers,  in  the  words 
of  Cotton  Mather,  "  ruffle  their  heads  in  excesses  of 
this  kind." 

!N'otwithstanding  this  opposition  to  the  favorite 
prejudices  of  those  with  whom  he  mingled,  he  was 
generally  beloved  and  respected,  the  more  deeply  for 
attaining  to  that  simplicity  and  purity  of  life  which 
they  had  not  suflicient  self-denial  or  strength  of  will 
to  adopt. 

As  the  greatly  good  man  grew  more  infirm,  he  re- 
linquished his  pulpit  duties,  but  was  still  cherished 
by  his  people,  who  assured  him  that  his  presence  was 
worth  more  than  gold.  His  strong  frame  tottered, 
and  his  kind  eyes  grew  dim,  but  he  was  a  sunshine  in 
all  the  homes  of  the  village.  He  was  an  old  soldier 
of  the  cross,  full  of  love,  a  peace-maker,  and  wise  in 


36 G  DISCO VEKERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

counsel.  Still  looking  for  some  good  work  to  do,  ho 
interested  himself  in  the  neglected  negro  servants, 
and  persuaded  many  families  in  the  vicinity  to  send 
them  to  him  once  a  week,  for  instruction.  He  also 
took  under  his  care  a  blind  boy,  and  taught  him  to 
repeat  chapters  of  the  Bible.  A  beautiful  and  noble 
picture  !  —  this  silver-haired  apostle  of  the  Indians 
who  had  j^erformed  so  great  work,  literary,  missiona- 
ry and  parish  tasks,  who  was  one  of  Xew  England's 
most  influential,  early  divines,  and  had  traversed  a 
wide  wilderness  with  unwearied  perseverance  for 
thirty  years,  now  seated,  in  cheerful  old  age,  teaching 
a  poor,  blind  child,  and  a  little  company  of  despised 
Africans. 

As  death  approached,  through  no  disease  but  the 
natural  failing  of  his  powers,  he  said,  "Alas,  I  have 
lost  every  thing  ;  my  understanding  leaves  me  ;  my 
memory  fails  me  ;  but,  I  thank  God,  my  charity  holds 
out  still ;  I  find  it  rather  grows  than  fails."  As  often 
in  pious  old  age  and  death,  his  clear  views  of  truth 
grew  clearer  and  brighter.  It  was  a  peaceful  depart- 
ure, with  a  long,  sunny  recollection  of  duty  done,  and 
the  heaven  of  humble  faith  to  await.  The  cause  of 
the  poor  Indian  lay  heavy  upon  his  heart,  though  he 
expressed  a  strong  hope  that  the  cloud  which  obscured 
his  ardent  work,  would  j^ass  away,  and  leave  the  good 
seed  to  spring  up  with  fresh  vigor  ^vhere  it  had  been 
60  ruthlessly  trodden  down. 

How  different  was  the  cry  of  "  welcome  joy  !  "  wdtli 
which  he  beheld  the  angel  of  Death,  from  that  of  the 


JOHN     ELIOT.  367 

unscrupulous  pioneers  who  had  labored  for  fame  in 
the  forests  of  the  ^ew  World,  and  who  submitted  to 
the  eternal  summons,  either  in  sullen  silence  or  with 
a  wail  of  despair  and  fear.  They  gloried  in  dia- 
monds and  pearls,  which  were  a  glittering  mockery 
in  the  deatli-hour  —  Eliot  awaited  his  jeweled  crown 
in  another  life,  and,  in  imitation  of  his  Saviour,  made 
peace  and  good  will  to  man  his  only  strife  in  this. 

He  died  in  1690,  aged  eighty-six  years.  But  two 
of  his  six  children  lived  to  mourn  his  death,  and  his 
wife  had  preceded  him  to  the  grave,  after  a  long  and 
useful  pilgrimage  with  him.  The  Indians,  to  whom 
Eliot  had  been  a  tender  father,  and  a  generous  friend, 
wept  for  his  departure,  and  the  English  so  reverenced 
him  that  they  had  a  tradition  that  the  colony  could 
not  perish  so  long  as  the  good  man  lived.  He  was 
eq^ually  esteemed  in  England.  Baxter,  upon  his 
death-bed,  said  of  him,  "  There  was  no  man  on  earth 
whom  I  honored  above  him." 


X. 

WILLIAM  PENN. 

In  the  times  of  Charles  II.,  the  country-seat  of  Ad^ 
miral  Penn  was  the  resort  of  many  distinguished 
men  and  noblemen.  The  charm  lay  not  in  the  broad 
fields,  the  wooded  dells,  and  velvety  lawns,  that  made 
Pennwood  rich  in  beauty ;  nor  even  the  spacious  old 
Hall  of  ancient  and  curious  architecture,  that  told 
many  a  tale  of  olden  times ;  neither  did  the  luxuri- 
ous style  that  prevailed  at  Pennwood  form  the  chief 
attraction ;  for,  in  these  respects,  it  could  not  com- 
pete with  the  princely  homes  of  the  neighboring  no- 
blemen. But  in  the  magnetic  charm  of  its  home  cir- 
cle,  it  exceeded  them  all.  There  was  a  frank  cor- 
diality in  the  greetings  of  Admiral  Penn,  that  con- 
vinced one  of  sincerity ;  and  a  cheerful,  varied,  in- 
telligent tone  in  his  conversation  that  made  the  hours 
pass  quickly.  He  was  firm,  even  to  obstinacy,  as  was 
evinced  in  his  career ;  but  the  noblest  trait  of  char- 
acter was  an  unyielding  integrity  —  a  rare  quality  in 
a  public  man,  and  one  which,  though  often  trouble- 
some to  his  compeers,  secured  universal  respect  and 
confidence.  With  devoted  afi'ection,  he  reverenced 
his  lovely  wife;  and,  though  he  did  not  sympathize 


WILLIAM    PENN.  369 

with  her  deep  piety,  he  aj^preciated  and  respected 
what  he  saw  daily  shine  forth  in  her  life  with  beauti- 
ful consistency.  Her  mild  and  affectionate  temper, 
with  the  simple  elegance  of  her  manner,  won  her 
many  warm  friends  among  the  worldly  and  fashiona- 
ble, who  might  otherwise  have  avoided  her,  as  too  re- 
ligiously strict. 

To  the  care  of  such  parents  was  given  an  only  son, 
William  Penn,  who  was  born  in  IGii,  in  London.  In 
his  younger  years  he  was  left  almost  entirely  to  the 
guidance  and  instruction  of  his  mother;  the  ocean- 
life  of  the  admiral  occasioning  long  seasons  of  ab- 
sence. But  when  again  reunited,  heart-happiness 
dwelt  in  the  family  circle,  as  they  gathered  round  the 
cheerful  fire  that  crackled  and  blazed  on  the  old, 
broad  hearth,  throwing  a  warm  glow  over  the  apart- 
ment. 

The  admiral  would  sit  by  the  hour,  in  the  flicker- 
ing light,  and  answer  the  eager,  thoughtful  questions 
of  his  idol  boy.  He  could  not  resist  the  coaxing,  lov- 
ing tones,  and  he  gazed  with  pride  upon  the  child's 
beautiful,  rosy,  dimpled  face,  as  he  sat  at  his  feet,  or 
upon  his  knee.  Sometimes  he  told  him  of  the  ocean, 
and  the  great  battles  he  had  fought  on  the  wide  wa- 
ters, and  grew  enthusiastic  as  he  recounted  his  ex- 
ploits, painting  them  in  such  life-like  colors,  that  the 
child  shuddered  and  paled  as  he  heard  of  the  wrecks 
and  awful  storms.  Or,  when  the  story  dwelt  upon  an 
instance  of  injustice  and  cruelty,  the  blood  rushed  to 

his  cheeks  in  a  burning  tide,  and  his  eyes  sparkled 
P*  24 


370         DISCO VEKEKS    AInD    PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

witli  indignation.  Then  lie  listened  to  the  tale  of 
battles,  when  amidst  fire  and  smoke,  and  the  thunder- 
ing of  cannons,  came  the  death-shrieks ;  or  of  a  ship 
with  its  soldier-seamen,  torn  limb  from  limb,  and 
hurled  high  in  the  air ;  and  then,  amidst  frightful  suf- 
fering, sinking  forever  in  the  blood-stained  waves. 

Tears  of  sympathy  and  grief  rolled  over  the  cheeks 
of  little  William  at  the  recital,  and  amid  his  sobs  he 
cried  — 

"  "When  I  'm  a  man,  I  '11  never  kill  people  so." 

Tlie  admiral  raised  his  brows  at  the  unconscious 
rebuke,  and  he  folded  the  little  peace-boy  in  his  arms, 
to  still  the  storm  he  had  awakened.  With  returning 
smiles  brightening  his  face,  the  child  flew  to  his 
mother,  who,  near  by,  had  watched  the  emotion  of  the 
child,  and  regarded  it  a  fruitful  source  of  instruction. 
That  gentle,  pious  mother !  With  what  watchful  care 
she  moulded  the  young  heart  entrusted  to  her  keep- 
ing !  With  what  prayerful  devotion  she  attuned  to 
pleasant  tones,  the  little  harp  God  had  given  her ;  for 
with  such  gifts  comes  the  power  to  awaken  harsh  dis- 
cords, or  beautiful  harmony.  But  William's  educa- 
tion was  not  neglected  by  the  admiral,  when  at  home, 
for  he  also  strove  to  instill  high  and  honest  principles 
into  the  mind  of  the  child. 

It  is  related  that  William  was  roaming  the  fields 
one  day,  when  he  found  one  of  his  father's  tenants,  a 
poor  man,  named  Thomas  Pearce,  hard  at  work  with 
his  cart,  having  been  called  to  assist  in  some  emer- 
gency.    William  was  very  fond  of  Tom,  and  he  was 


WILLIAISI   PENN.  371 

troubled  when  he  saw  great  drops  rolling  down  the 
laborer's  cheeks  ;  so  he  ran  with  haste  to  the  admi- 
ral, saying  — 

"  Father,  ain't  you  going  to  pay  poor  Tom  Pearce 
for  working  so  hard  for  you  ? " 

"What  makes  you  ask  that,  "William  ?  " 

"  Because,  liither,  I  think  you  ought  to  pay  him." 

"  Why  so,  my  son  ?  " 

"  Because  I  don't  see  why  he  should  work  so  hard 
for  nothing." 

"  Well,  I  dare  say,  William,  I  shall  pay  him." 

"  But,  father,  if  you  don't  pay  him  money,  I  '11  tell 
you  what  you  ought  to  do." 

"  What,  my  son  ?  " 

"  Why,  father,  if  poor  Tom  comes  to  want  any  work 
done,  you  should  send  your  wagon  to  help  him." 

"  My  cart  you  mean,  William,  for  you  see  I  have 
only  his  cart." 

"  Yes,  father,  but  your  wagon  is  not  so  much  larger 
than  his  cart,  as  you  are  richer  than  poor  Tom." 

"  God  bless  my  son  ! "  cried  the  admiral,  embra- 
cing him  ;  "  I  hope  you  '11  be  a  brave,  honest-hearted 
Englishman,  as  long  as  you  live." 

The  proud  father  had  high  hopes  for  his  son,  and 
his  favorite  castle-building  was  to  fancy  the  rosy- 
cheeked  boy  transformed  to  a  man  of  eminence  and 
distinguished  talent,  filling  with  honor  the  most  influ- 
ential posts  in  the  realm.  Time  traveled  not  so  fast 
as  the  admiral's  imagination,  for  William  was  jet  in 
his  ninth  year.     At  this  period  he  was  sent  to  a  gram 


372         DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

mar-school  at  Chigwell,  near  one  of  liis  father's  esj* 
tates,  and  selected  by  his  mother,  because  it  was  con- 
ducted by  a  clergyman  of  eminent  piety.  The  reli- 
gious instructions  of  his  mother  were  not  forgotten 
during  his  absence,  but  were  treasured  with  reverence, 
as  the  earnest  injunctions  of  her  he  so  well  loved. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen,  "William  entered  Oxford  Col- 
lege, with  bright  prospects.  He  quickly  became  a 
general  favorite,  both  on  account  of  his  brilliant  tal- 
ents, and  his  many  noble  qualities,  and  soon  received 
the  highest  honors  of  the  University.  His  cho- 
sen companions  were  of  the  same  serious  bent  of 
mind  with  himself;  among  them  was  John  Locke, 
who  remained  a  faithful  and  tried  friend  throusfhout 
the  vicissitudes  of  Penn's  life.  These  J^oimg  men, 
hearing  of  a  Quaker  meeting  about  to  be  held,  de- 
termined to  attend,  j^artly  from  curiosity,  as  the  name 
of  the  preacher,  Thomas  Loe,  was  given,  without  any 
pompous  titles  attached,  which  were  so  universal  in 
those  days  that  a  departure  therefrom  caused  sur- 
prise. The  appointed  time  came,  and  found  William 
in  the  place  of  worship.  He  looked  with  no  little  as- 
tonishment upon  the  plain  apartment,  and  still  plain- 
er people  that  filled  it,  so  difi'erent  from  the  estab- 
lished church,  to  which  he  had  always  been  accus- 
tomed. ISTor  was  his  surprise  lessened  when  he  be- 
held in  Thomas  Loe,  "  a  plain,  fleshy,  round-faced 
man,  in  a  broad-brimmed  hat,  a  drab  coat  of  the  hum- 
blest cloth  and  cut,  and  a  close,  snug  neck- cloth,  all 
shinin,'^,  clean  and  neat." 


WnJJAM   PENN.  373 

At  first,  Penn's  attention  was  fixed  by  the  simple 
quaintness  of  his  language ;  but  soon,  the  sincere, 
touehing  words  that  fell  from  his  lips  in  eloquent  ap- 
peals, went  searchinglj  to  his  heart ;  and  as  he  lis- 
tened, he  was  sure  the  way  was  appointed  to  him  of 
which  he  had  long  been  dreaming  —  to  lead  a  simple, 
pure  life,  in  the  service  of  his  Maker,  and  for  the 
good  of  his  fellow-creatures.  Again  and  again  he 
sought  the  Quaker  meeting-house,  and  listened  to  the 
aflectionate  and  fatherly  teachings  of  Thomas  Loe. 
His  conscience  was  fully  awakened,  but  his  course 
undecided ;  and  in  his  perplexity,  he  went  to  one  of 
the  learned  divines  of  the  college.  He  laughed  at 
his  "  fanaticism,"  and  bade  him  "  keep  to  the  good, 
old  church,  hear  sermons,  and  take  the  sacrament, 
and  all  would  be  well."  William  obeyed  the  direc- 
tions, but  his  conscience  could  not  be  silenced ;  he 
was  more  dissatisfied  than  ever  with  the  formal 
ceremonies  of  the  church,  and  the  worldly,  fashiona- 
ble throng  who  professed  to  worship  God. 

Again  he  returned  to  the  Quaker  meeting,  and  de- 
termined to  adhere  to  their  principles,  despite  the 
sneers  and  scorn  of  his  fellow-students,  and  the  world 
at  large.  He,  and  a  few  of  his  companions,  held 
meetings  by  themselves,  and  adopted  a  plain  mode 
of  dress.  Their  absence  from  public  service  was  no- 
ticed by  the  professors ;  upon  learning  the  cause,  they 
were  immediately  summoned  before  the  faculty,  and 
"  for  assembling  themselves  together  to  worship  God 
contrary  to  law,"  were  severely  fined.     More  serious 


S74        DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA. 

consequences  followed  their  newly-awakened  ardor 
One  day,  tliey  met  a  few  gay  young  men  of  the  col 
lege,  who  were  attired  in  a  foppish,  extravagant  style, 
or,  as  some  have  it,  in  the  long,  black  gowns,  pecu- 
liar to  the  forms  of  Ens^land.  Penn  and  his  friends 
expostulated  with  them,  and  advised  them  to  dis- 
pense with  what  was  unbecoming  and  unchristian. 
In  return,  receiving  only  derision  and  contempt,  they 
forgot  their  Quaker  principles,  furiously  rushed  upon 
them,  and  tore  the  dresses  from  their  shoulders. 
They  were  speedily  called  to  account,  and,  among 
others,  William  Penn  was  formally  expelled  from 
college. 

Unwilling  that  the  mortifying  news  should  reach 
his  parents  from  other  lips  than  his  own,  he  hastened 
to  them  with  a  heavy  heart.  He  arrived  at  Penn- 
wood,  and  presented  himself  with  a  firm,  but  troub- 
led air.  How  great  was  their  astonishment  to  behold 
their  son  before  them  in  a  full  suit  of  Quaker  drab, 
and  a  broad  beaver  concealing  his  fine  browM  His 
usually  cheerful  face  was  clouded,  but  he  stood  with 
meek  aspect  in  their  presence.  With  exclamations 
of  surprise,  they  gazed  upon  him. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  What  is  the  matter  ? 
Why  are  you  here  ?  "  were  the  hasty  inquiries.  He 
replied  with  determined  calmness, 

"  I  am  expelled  from  college  !  " 

The  admiral  started  from  his  chair,  his  face  flushed 
with  anger,  and  to  his  eager  questions  of  the  why  and 
wherefore,  William  answered  — 


WILLIAM   PENN.  375 

"  Why,  sir,  it  was  because  I  tore  their  dresses  from 
*-,he  shoulders  of  some  of  the  students." 

"  You  tore  the  dresses  ftom  the  shoulders  of  the 
students !  Why,  God's  mercy  on  my  soul !  what  had 
you  to  do  with  their  dresses  ?  " 

"  Why,  father,"  answered  William,  "  their  dresses 
were  so  fantastical  and  unbecoming  to  the  dignity  of 
Englishmen  and  the  society  of  Christians,  that  I  felt 
it  a  duty  to  my  country  and  conscience  to  bear  my 
testimony  against  them;  and,  moreover,  I  was  as- 
sisted in  it  by  Kobert  Spencer,  John  Locke,  and  other 
discreet  youths  of  the  college." 

"  Well,  thank  God !  thank  God  it 's  no  worse,"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Penn. 

"  You  are  thankful  fo  small  flwors,  madam,"  was 
the  admiral's  sharp  rejoinder. 

A  long  discussion  ensued,  which  only  excited  the 
admiral,  and  in  no  way  altered  the  opinions  of  young 
Penn.  His  father's  patience  was  exhausted,  and,  full 
of  disappointment  and  anger,  he  exclaimed : 

"  Here  's  a  pretty  ending  of  all  the  bright  castles 
I  've  for  years  been  building  in  the  air  for  this  boy  ! 
A  lad  of  genius  —  getting  a  complete  college  educa- 
tion—the only  child  of  a  British  admiral  —  great 
friends  at  court  —  the  high-road  to  preferment  all 
ahoy  before  him,  and  yet  determined  to  turn  his  back 
on  all,  and  live  and  die  a  poor,  despised  Quaker ! 
Why,  God's  mercy  on  my  soul,  boy  !  you,  who  might 
have  been  among  the  first  in  the  realm  !  If  to  the 
army,  a  general ;  if  to  the  navy,  an  admiral ;  if  to 


376         DISCOVERERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

law,  a  chief  justice  ;  if  to  medicine,  a  court  physician ; 
to  divinity,  a  bishop  or  lord  primate  ;  and  now,  Avith 
all  these  grand  prizes  under  your  guns,  you  will  haul 
down  your  colors,  and,  in  a  three-buttoned  drab,  and 
broad  beaver,  go  sneaking  about  the  world,  or  sit, 
twirling  your  thumbs,  at  a  silent  meeting,  with  Tom 
Loe,  a  superstitious  blockhead,  no  more  to  be  com- 
pared with  one  of  our  learned  divines,  than  a  Dutch 
cock-boat  to  a  British  line-of-battle-ship  !  " 

William  attempted  to  expostulate,  but  his  father 
angrily  interrupted  him  with  — 

"  Harkee,  young  man  !  I  know  yoa  have  a  clear 
head  and  a  fluent  tongue  ;  but  in  such  a  cause  as  this 
I  don't  wish  to  hear  them.  All  I  have  to  say  is,  let 
me  know  to-morrow  if  you  will  go  back  to  the  Uni 
versity,  and  do  as  I  desire,  or  not ;  and,  take  notice, 
sirrah,  if  you  do  not,  you  are  no  longer  a  son  of  mine, 
and  never  again  shall  you  darken  my  door." 

Mrs.  Penn  looked  on  with  painful  emotions  ;  and 
she  now  accompanied  William,  to  use  her  influence 
with  him.  But  she  could  not  rebuke  the  pure  Chris- 
tian sentiments  that  seemed  to  breathe  from  his  inmost 
heart,  although  clothed  in  a  new  aspect.  She  did 
not,  therefore,  attempt  to  persuade  him  to  relinquish 
his  adopted  religion. 

His  determination  was  fixed.  The  next  morning, 
when  summoned  to  his  father's  presence,  to  give  his 
final  decision,  he  replied  to  all  entreaties  with  char- 
acteristic firmness,  yet  with  the  meekness  of  an  hon- 
est Quaker,  that  ''  he  had  turned  his  thoughts  to  the 


WILLIAM   PENN.  377 

light  within  ;  and  that  while  he  felt,  with  exceedino 
affection,  how  much  he  owed  to  his  earthly  father, 
he  owed  still  more  to  his  heavenly,  and,  therefore, 
could  not  offend  Him,  by  sinning  against  the  light, 
and  endangering  his  own  soul." 

"  "Well,  then,  you  will  not  go  back  to  the  estab- 
lished church,"  replied  the  admiral. 

"  While  my  present  convictions  remain,  I  can  never 
leave  the  Quakers." 

"Then,  sir,"  rejoined  the  admiral,  in  stormy  wrath, 
"  you  must  leave  me  ;  "  and  ordered  him  to  quit  the 
house  instantly. 

He  obeyed  without  words,  and  went  immediately 
to  his  grandmother's,  according  to  his  mother's  ad- 
vice ;  for  she  well  knew  the  result.  William  re- 
mained but  a  short  time  at  the  elegant  mansion  of  his 
excellent,  pious  relative  ;  for  his  father  had  not  enjoy- 
ed a  moment's  peace  since  his  harshness  towards  his 
idolized  son.  He  had  paced  the  floor  for  hours,  and 
angered,  and  wept  even,  at  the  sudden  downfall  of 
his  plan.  With  a  faint  hope  of  influencing  his  son, 
he  recalled  him,  to  the  great  joy  of  the  whole 
household. 

Hearing  that  a  number  of  young  men  of  rank  were 
about  making  a  trip  to  Paris,  he  proposed  that  Wil- 
liam should  accompany  them,  and  remain  long  enough 
to  acquire  the  French  language  ;  but,  with  a  secret 
hope  that  a  sojourn  with,  a  gay  and  fascinating  peo- 
ple, would  wear  off  his  exceeding  gravity,  as  well  as 
conquer  his  "  fanaticism."     William  acquiesced,  and 


378        DlSOO^rEEERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

was  soon  generously  fitted  out  witli  a  wardrobe  of  tlia 
richest  materials,  thongli,  as  lie  insisted,  of  '*'  plain 
fasliion."  Abundantly  provided  with  money,  and  let- 
ters to  distinguished  men,  he  set  out,  with  his  pleas- 
ure-seeking companions,  for  Paris. 

Being  naturally  of  a  w^arm-hearted  disposition,  and 
always  exerting  himself  to  give  others  happiness,  he 
received  with  keen  pleasure  the  kindness  and  little  at- 
tentions, which  the  French  know  so  well  how  to  be- 
stow. Their  powers  of  pleasing,  so  skillfully  exer- 
cised, delighted  him,  and  he  soon  participated  in  the 
festivities  of  the  capital,  with  as  much  zeal  as  his 
father  could  desire.  "  He  learned  their  lano^uas^e 
with  the  facility  of  a  mocking-bird  ;  he  caught  their 
manners  by  instinct ;  his  limbs  forgot  their  proud, 
British  stiffness,  and  his  muscles  their  cold,  unlovely 
rigidity ;  and  whether  he  bowed  or  smiled — in  stand- 
ing, moving,  bowing,  or  smiling,  shone  forth  the  ele- 
gant and  all  accomplished  Frenchman." 

A  year  passed  in  a  round  of  fashionable  dissipation, 
to  the  great  delight  of  his  father ;  for  he  now  felt 
there  would  be  no  obstacles  to  his  son's  advancement. 
Joj^ful  j^reparations  w^ere  made  for  his  return  to  Penn- 
wood.  Distinguished  and  mirthful  guests  were  invi- 
ted to  the  Hall,  to  particij^ate  in  the  continued  fes- 
tivities, which  were  to  follow  his  arrival.  He  came 
at  last.  ISTever,  in  the  moments  of  his  proudest  vic- 
tories, did  the  admiral  feel  such  emotions  of  pleasure, 
as  when  he  greeted  his  long-absent  son,  and  beheld 
him  transformed  into  an  elegant,  accomplished  young 


WILLIAlSr    PENN. 


379 


man.  The  noble  and  intellectual  expression  of  his 
conntenance  was  relieved  from  severity  by  a  smile  of 
tenderness  and  benevolence,  which,  added  to  a  bril- 
liant mind  and  graceful  manner,  finished  by  a  Qua- 
ker sweetness,  made  him  a  welcome  guest  in  the  cir- 
cles of  fashion,  as  well  as  of  the  cultivated. 

Mrs.  Penn's  ambition  for  the  worldly  success  of  her 
son  was  more  than  gratified,  and  she  had  long  felt  a 
deep  anxiety  lest  the  promising  piety  of  his  youth 
had  fled  with  his  boyhood.  The  admiral  saw  it,  but 
took  good  care  to  keep  William  constantly  occupied  ; 
and,  at  the  earliest  moment,  hastened  to  introduce 
him  at  court,  and  to  his  most  illustrious  friends. 

Not  long  after  his  return  from  France,  he  was  ad- 
mitted as  a  law-student  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  where  he  re- 
mained till  his  twenty-second  year.  During  this  time, 
his  society  was  courted,  and  most  flattering  attentions 
were  paid  him,  but  in  no  wise  detracted  from  the  sim- 
plicity of  his  character,  nor  caused  him  to  swerve 
from  the  pure  principles  which  had  grown  with  his 
o-rowth.  But  the  admiral  was  continually  fearful  lest 
he  should  fall  into  his  "old  gloomy  ways"  again; 
and,  therefore,  upon  inheriting  a  large  estate,  near 
Dublin,  immediately  determined  to  commit  its  man- 
ao«ement  to  William.  This  step,  to  his  great  chagrin, 
proved  the  occasion  of  his  finally  adhering  to  the 
cause  of  the  Quakers. 

He  soon  set  out  for  Dublin.  To  insure  him  a  vari- 
ety of  dissipation,  the  admiral  provided  him  with  let- 
ters from  court  friends,  introducins:  him  in  most  flat- 


380         DISCOVEEFES   AKD   PIOKEEES   OF   A31ERICA. 

tering  terms  to  the  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Dublin,  and 
others  of  rank  Accordingly,  he  received  uncommon 
attentions  from  distinguished  families,  both  on  ac- 
count of  his  talents  and  his  rank.  Lie  paid  strict  at- 
tention to  the  improvement  of  the  estate  consio^ned  to 
his  care,  and  spent  his  leisure  with  the  lord-lieuten- 
ant and  his  friends,  till  one  evening,  while  perusing  a 
Dublin  paper,  his  attention  was  caught  by  a  notice 
that  "  one  of  the  people  called  Quakers  was  to  preach 
in  the  market-house  the  next  day."  He  determined 
to  attend  the  meeting ;  for  his  partiality  to  the 
sect  had  never  decreased,  thongh  he  had  for  some 
time  conformed  to  the  established  church. 

What  was  his  surprise  to  behold  in  the  speaker, 
the  kind  and  placid  countenance  of  his  old  friend, 
Thomas  Loe,  and  the  good  Quaker  was  no  less  pleased 
to  see  his  familiar  face,  though  alarmed  to  see  him 
attired  in  fashionable  dress.  Every  word  spoken  by 
the  preacher  went  to  his  heart  and  conscience,  and 
his  old  desire  for  a  simple,  pure  religion,  like  tlie  one 
urged  to  his  acceptance,  returned  with  new  strength. 
At  the  closing  of  the  meeting,  an  interview  took 
place,  the  result  of  which  was  his  continued  attend- 
ance upon  the  meetings ;  he  conformed  to  the  doc- 
trines with  a  firmness  of  purpose  never  again  shaken. 
He  relinquished  all  intercourse  with  the  L'ish  nobil- 
ity, and  completely  altered  his  life. 

The  Quakers  were,  at  this  time,  strongly  persecu- 
ted. On  one  occasion,  Penn,  with  a  number  of 
others,  was  arrested  at  a  meeting  in  Cork,  and  car- 


■WTLLIAM    PENN.  381 

ried  before  the  mayor,  who  committed  them  all  to 
prison.  By  the  influence  of  his  Irish  friends,  Penn 
was  soon  released. 

News  of  his  return  to  the  Quakers,  and  his  impris- 
onment, quickly  reached  his  father.  He  was  instant- 
ly remanded  home  by  the  enraged  admiral.  He 
promptly  obeyed  the  summons,  but  with  a  heavy 
heart;  he  well  knew  the  storm  of  opposition  that 
awaited  him.  As  he  journeyed  homeward,  he  com- 
muned with  the  "  inward  light,"  and  gained  strength 
to  endure  the  trials  before  him.  He  knew,  in  follow- 
ing the  promptings  of  his  conscience,  he  would  be 
banished  from  his  father's  house,  and  must  go  forth 
to  the  world,  poor,  neglected,  scorned,  j^ersecuted. 
But  he  remembered  for  what  he  gave  up  all ;  and  a 
holy  zeal  burned  in  his  heart,  and  beamed  in  his 
countenance  with  serene  happiness.  It  was  thus  he 
reached  the  beautiful  home  of  his  boyhood.  A 
mournful  sadness  clouded  his  joy,  as  he  gazed  upon 
the  wild,  rich  scenery  that  sib  rounded  him,  and  look- 
ed with  dimmed  eyes  upon  the  familiar  old  Hall,  so 
vividly  recalling  the  days  of  his  youth  —  feeling  that 
he  would  soon  be  a  wanderer  from  that  loved  home. 
And  his  mother  !  oh,  his  beloved  mother !  How  he 
dreaded  the  pain  such  a  separation  would  cause  them 
both  !  He  paced  back  and  forth  beneath  the  spread- 
ing elms,  and  strove  to  subdue  the  struggle  which 
had  roused  the  whole  soul  of  his  deep  affections. 

"  Oh,  God,  not  my  will,  but  thine,  be  done,"  was 
his  prayer;  and,  after  silent  meditation,  those  pain- 


382         DISCOVERERS   AND   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

ful  emotions  were  calmed,  and  once  more,  with  a 
radiant  comitenance  and  light  step,  he  sought  his 
parents. 

There  he  stood  :  William  Penn,  in  his  quaint  Qua- 
ker garb,  amidst  the  luxury  which  might  have  been 
his  own.  His  mother  uttered  an  exclamation  of  joj, 
embracing  him  with  the  deepest  affection.  The  ad- 
miral did  not  move ;  he  stood  with  folded  arms,  and 
flushed  face,  eyeing  his  offending  son,  from  his  wide 
beaver  to  the  plain  shoe,  with  contemptuous  looks. 

"  And  so  Tom  Loe  has  taken  you  in  tow,  and  made 
a  fool  of  you  again,  eh  ?  "  was  his  greeting,  at  last. 

A  discussion  followed,  full  of  anger  on  the  admi- 
ral's part,  but  eliciting  only  calm  replies.  Mrs.  Penn 
listened  with  anxious  solicitude.  Tears  of  joy  filled 
her  eyes,  and  her  heart  overflowed  with  gratitude 
to  God,  that  strength  was  given  him  to  endure  even 
persecution,  in  obeying  the  dictates  of  his  conscience. 

"  My  son,"  said  she,  "  I  weep  not  for  any  crime 
that  you  have  committed,  but  rather  for  joy  of  your 
innocence,  and  honest  adherence  to  what  you  think 
your  duty." 

What  consolation  those  few  words  gave  him ! 

Days  and  weeks  passed,  and  still  the  admiral  strove, 
by  every  inducement,  to  conquer  the  firmness  of  Will- 
iam's convictions,  but  in  vain.  He  could  not  bear  to 
drive  him  away,  and  would  have  conceded  to  his  plain 
speech,  dress,  and  deportment,  if  he  would  but  con- 
sent to  uncover  his  head  in  the  presence  of  the  king, 
the  Duke  of  York,  (afterwards  James  H.)  and  himself; 


WILLIAM   PENN.  383 

but  finding  "William  unyielding,  even  in  this,  he  no 
-onger  restrained  himself,  and,  in  a  storm  of  passion, 
ordered  him  to  leave  the  house  forever.  He  obeved, 
and  with  sadness  in  the  parting,  said  — 

"  Father,  if  I  had  been  turned  out  of  doors  because 
of  any  crime  I  had  done,  I  should  be  wretched,  in- 
deed. But  thanks  to  God !  I  go  away  with  a  con- 
science unstained  by  any  act  which  should  cause  you 
or  my  dear  mother  to  blush  for  me." 

He  bade  his  noble  mother  a  tearful  farewell,  and 
as  he  departed  from  them,  they  listened  to  his  foot- 
steps till  they  died  away  in  the  distance,  feeling  an 
oppressive  loneliness  which  tears  could  not  relieve. 
From  that  hour,  the  admiral  lost  liis  jocose  spirits, 
and  became  restless,  fretful,  and  gloomy.  His  ambi- 
tion for  his  only  son  had  been  bitterly  disappointed, 
and  he  knew  not  how  to  find  peace,  for  even  the  sad 
countenance  of  his  wife  reproached  him.  Hoping  for 
relief  in  the  excitement  of  public  action,  he  sought 
the  honors  of  victorious  battle,  ^nd  ventured  upon 
the  sea  in  searcli  oi  a  happiness  he  no  longer  enjoyed 
in  the  once  cheertui  home  at  Pennwood. 

Meanwhile,  young  Penn  repaired  to  London,  and 
became  a  member  of  the  Society  of  Friends.  He 
employed  himseii  for  some  time  in  defending  their 
doctrines  by  writing ;  but  soon  an  offensive  article 
appeared  from  nis  pen,  which  caused  his  immediate 
arrest,  and  imprisonment  in  the  Tower.  His  cheer- 
fulness did  not  lorsake  him  there.  With  pious  resig- 
nation, he  endurea  all  the  sufferings  inflicted  upon 


SSI  DISCOVERERS   AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 


o 


him.  Even  liis  harsli  jailor  was  won  from  liis  prejii 
dices,  when,  in  retm*n  for  his  rudeness,  he  always  re- 
ceived a  kind  remonstrance.  His  hardness  of  heart 
was  penetrated,  and  long  before  the  seven  months  of 
Penn's  imprisonment  expired,  he  learned  to  respect 
the  stern  integrity  of  his  prisoner,  and  to  look  with 
awe  and  admiration  upon  his  serene  and  youthful 
countenance,  ever  beaming  with  purity  and  benign 
love.  There  was  music  in  his  simple  language,  and 
the  gentle  "thee  "and  "thou"  fell  with  such  soothing 
tones  upon  the  ear  of  the  rough  guard,  that,  in  spite 
of  his  hatred  to  the  sect,  he  often  sat  and  listened  to 
the  mild  teachings  of  the  persecuted  Quaker. 

The  admiral  was  still  absent ;   but  Mrs.  Penn,  upon 
hearing  of  her  son's  imprisonment,  ordered  her  car- 
riage, and  hastily  proceeded  to  London.     When  she 
arrived  before  the  dark  walls  of  the  prison,  her  soul 
sickened  with  the  thought  of  seeing  there,  among  a 
host  of  criminals,  her  innocent  and  onlv  child.     She 
followed  the  shuffling  steps  of  her  guide  through  the 
gloomy  corridors,  and  up  the  winding  staii'case,  with 
a  heart  beating  with  sorrow  and  indignation.     She 
shuddered  as  she  passed  by  the  cells  of  the  poor,  hard- 
ened wretches,  who  had  almost  forgotten  there  is  a 
God ;    and  when  her  way  led   through    aj^artments 
crowded  with  men,  women,  and  children,  placed  there 
because  of  their  peculiar  religion,  she  could  not  re- 
strain her  tears  of   grief   and  sympathy.      Almast 
overcome  by  conflicting  emotions,  she   reached  the 
sought-for  place.     The  key  rattled  in  the  rusty  lock, 


WILLIAM    TENN.  385 

and  the  iron  door  swung  heavily  back.  There  youno- 
Penn  sat,  near  the  high,  grated  window,  occupied  as 
diligently  with  his  pen  and  studies,  as  if  free  ;  but, 
upon  beholding  his  mother,  he  sprang  forward,  and 
received  her  with  an  affectionate  embrace.  When 
her  calmness  was  restored,  anxious  inquiries  followed, 
to  which  he  replied  with  so  much  cheerfulness,  that 
she  was  comforted  by  the  interview,  and  left  him  with 
a  strong  hope  of  soon  obtaining  his  release. 

But  weary  months  elapsed  ere  he  gained  his  liberty. 
He  was  finally  released  by  the  king,  at  the  instigation 
of  the  Duke  of  York,  who  entertained  a  friendship  for 
the  admiral.  Penn  was  now  restored  to  his  father's 
good  will.  He  yqyj  soon  made  a  short  visit  to  Ire- 
land, to  attend  to  the  business  of  his  estates.  ILu 
leisure  time  was  occupied  in  visiting  and  preaching 
to  the  imprisoned  Quakers  of  Dublin  and  Cork, 
whose  liberty  he  soon  obtained  through  the  influence 
of  his  various  friends  at  court.  He  well  knew  how 
to  sympathize  with  the  many  sufferers,  for  his  own 
imprisonment  was  so  frequent,  that  it  is  said,  on  one 
occcasion,  when  a  file  of  soldiers  was  ordered  to 
guard  him  to  the  Tower,  Penn  sarcastically  said  to 
the  judge,  "  Thee  need  not  send  thy  soldiers,  send 
thy  boy  ;  I  know  the  way." 

]^ot  long  after  his  return  to  England,  he  again  felt 
the  bitterness  of  persecution  and  injustice.  The  Con- 
venticle Act  had  just  been  passed  by  Parliament, 
which  prohibited  Dissenters  from  worshiping  in  their 
own  way.  William  Penn  was  one  of  the  first  victims ; 
Q  25 


886        DISCOYEKERS   AND    PIONEERS    OF   AZilERICA. 

fur  no  xaw  or  threats  could  deter  liim  from  what  he 
deemed  his  duty.  He  continued  to  preach,  as  usual, 
and,  on  going  with  his  friends,  to  their  meeting-house 
in  Grace-church  street,  to  perform  divine  worship, 
he  found  it  guarded  by  a  band  of  soldiers.  A  large 
number  of  the  society  being  gathered,  and  not  obtain- 
ing admittance,  Penn  began  to  address  them  where 
they  were.  He  had  not  proceeded  far  in  his  discourse 
when  he  was  arrested,  and,  together  with  William 
Mead,  a  Friend,  was  sent  to  ]!*^ewgate  to  await  a  trial. 
When  the  appointed  day  arrived,  the  court  was 
crowded  with  an  assembly,  waiting  eagerly  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  prisoners.  They  entered  without  re- 
moving their  hats,  whereat  one  of  the  officers  snatched 
them  off.  The  lord  mayor  became  furious  at  the 
act,  and  ordered  them  to  be  replaced,  and  then  lined 
the  prisoners  forty  marks  each,  for  contempt  of  court. 
Being  brought  to  the  bar,  the  indictment  was  read, 
which,  among  other  legal  falsehoods,  stated  that  the 
prisoners  had  preached  to  a  "  riotous  assembly,  and 
the}''  had  met  together  witli  force  and  arras,  and  tliis 
to  the  great  terror  and  disturbance  of  many  of  his 
majesty's  liege  subjects."  The  prisoners  plead  "  not 
guilty"  to  the  charge.  Tlie  witnesses,  upon  being 
examined,  could  prove  nothing  but  that  William  Penn 
was  seen  speaking  to  an  assemblage  on  a  certain  day, 
but  could  not  tell  what  he  said,  on  account  of  the 
noise.  It  was  also  proved  that  Mead  said  something, 
hit  nobody  could  tell  what.  This  Avas  the  substance 
of  the  evidence  against  them. 


WILLIAM   PENN.  387 

Peiin  detended  himself  so  clearly  and  ably,  that  he 
baffled  the  wily  recorder,  who  opposed  him,  in  every 
point.  Notwithstanding,  the  incensed  court  hurried 
away  the  prisoners  to  a  loathsome  dungeon,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  charge  the  jury.  Penn,  hearing  part  of  the 
false  charge,  stopped,  and  loudly  appealed  to  the  jury 
and  crowded  assembly,  to  judge  of  the  injustice  and 
violation  of  law,  in  charging  the  jury  in  the  absence 
of  the  prisoners.  A  murmur  of  approval  ran  through 
the  close  crowd,  but  his  daring  incensed  his  persecu- 
tors the  more.  He  was  ordered  away  with  the  rest, 
to  strict  confinement. 

The  jury  brought  in  a  verdict  of  "  not  guilty,"  but 
were  received  with  threats  and  abuse  by  the  judges. 
Seven  times  they  were  sent  out,  and  seven  times  they 
returned  the  same  verdict.  JSTot  one  of  the  twelve 
would  yield  his  convictions,  despite  the  brutal  threats 
of  the  bench.  Two  days  and  two  nights,  they  were 
kept  without  any  kind  of  refreshment ;  but  these  up- 
right men  were  neither  to  be  starved  nor  frio^htened 
into  the  support  of  injustice.  The  greatest  excite- 
ment prevailed.  Some  abused,  some  applauded  them. 
The  rage  of  the  judges  was  beyond  control,  yet  the 
jurymen  remained  firm.  Once  more,  a  separate  an- 
swer was  required  from  each,  which  being  still  un- 
changed, the  recorder  addressed  them  : 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury  :  I  am  sorry  you  have 
followed  your  own  judgments,  rather  than  the  good 
advice  which  was  given  you.     God  keep  my  life  out 


388         DISCOVERERS    AND   TIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

of  jour  hands!     But,  for  this,  the  court  fines  you' 
forty  marks  a  man,  and  imprisonment  till  paid." 

William  Penn  then  exclaimed :  "  I  demand  my 
liberty,  being  freed  by  the  jury." 

"  'No,  you  are  in  for  your  fines,"  replied  the  mayor. 

"  Fines  for  what?  " 

"  For  contempt  of  court,"  was  the  short  reply. 

Once  more  Penn  defended  himself  with  ability  and 
strength.  The  spectators  could  scarcely  restrain  their 
admiration  of  his  eloquence  and  talent,  and  those  who 
were  prejudiced  against  him,  forgot  their  dislike  in 
looking  upon  his  benign  and  noble  countenance,  and 
in  listening  to  his  skillful  defense,  and  exposure  of  the 
dishonorable  proceedings.  A  thrill  of  sympathy  re- 
sponded to  his  appeal  to  honest-hearted  Englishmen, 
and  many  beheld,  with  provoked  ire,  Penn  and  the 
unyielding  j  urymen  led  away  to  E^ewgate.  How  long 
the  latter  were  sufi'ered  to  remain,  or  what  became 
of  these  men,  whose  names  should  have  glowed  in 
history,  is  not  known. 

The  admiral  returned  from  sea  with  a  broken  con- 
stitution, and  sufi'ering  from  a  disease  that  was  rapidly 
bearing  him  to  the  grave.  He  heard  of  his  son's  im- 
prisonment with  surprise.  This,  more  than  all  else, 
served  to  blight  his  ambition  ;  for,  after  a  life,  and 
nearly  his  fortune,  spent  in  the  service  of- his  king  and 
country,  that  his  only  son  should  be  thrust  into  prison 
like  a  common  felon,  when  guilty  ^f  no  crime  but 
obeying  his  conscience,  stung  him  to  the  quick,  and 
he  felt  that  the  religion  which  could  persecute  with  such 


WILLIAM   PEXN.  389 

severity  an-d  injustice,  could  not  be  as  pure  and  holy 
as  the  one  which  suffered  and  endured  with  cheerful 
firmness  and  meek  foro;iveness.  His  afi'ections  vearned 
for  the  presence  of  his  loved  son,  and  he  longed  to 
repair  tho  harshness  and  wrong  he  had  done  him. 
Penn's  re  .ease  was  soon  obtained,  and,  for  the  last 
time,  the  family  were  reunited  at  Pennwood.  The 
spirit  of  the  proud  father  was  bowed  to  the  dust,  and, 
now  that  worldly  ambition  no  longer  blinded  him, 
he  regarded  his  son's  conduct  in  a  far  different  light. 
What  once  seemed  to  him  willful  obstinacy,  now 
proved  to  be  a  stern  integrity,  and  a  trutliful  heart 
which  would  in  no  way  belie  itself.  He  no  longer 
refused  to  give  his  blessing ;  and  though  he  could 
not  adopt  the  peculiar  belief  of  his  son,  he  regarded 
it  with  generous  and  enlightened  views  ;  for  a  new. 
Christian  fervor  burned  in  his  own  soul,  and  as  death 
drcAV  near,  he  wondered  at  the  entire  devotion  of  his 
life  and  talents  to  his  king,  rather  than  to  his  God» 
As  his  eyes  grew  dim  and  his  voice  faint,  he  thus  ad- 
dressed his  son,  whom  he  now  loved  with  redoubled 
affection  and  new  hope  : 

"  Son  William,  I  am  weary  of  the  world  !  I  would 
not  live  my  days  over  again,  if  I  could  command  them 
with  a  wish  ;  for  the  snares  of  life  are  greater  than  the 
fears  of  death.  Let  nothing  in  this  world  tempt  jon 
to  wrong  your  conscience.  I  charge  you,  do  nothing 
against  your  conscience.  So  will  you  keep  your 
peace  at  home,  which  will  be  a  feast  to  you  in  tho 
day  of  trouble." 


S90         DISCOYEREES   AND   PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

He  sent,  as  a  dying  request,  an  earnest  message  to 
the  Duke  of  York,  to  protect  his  son,  and  to  ask  the 
King  to  do  the  same,  in  case  of  future  persecution, 
which  was  readily  promised. 

The  admiral  died  in  his  forty-ninth  year,  1670, 
leaving  to  William  Penn  a  handsome  estate  of  fifteen 
thousand  dollars  per  annum,  besides  a  large  debt  due 
from  the  Crown.  So  far  from  appropriating  it  to  lux- 
urious habits,  he  continued  his  extremely  plain  style 
of  living,  devoting  much  of  his  fortune  to  the  benefit 
of  the  Quakers  ;  often  releasing  numbers  of  them  by 
paying  the  heavy  fines  imposed  upon  them.  Once 
more  he  sufi'ered  an  imprisonment  of  six  months  in  the 
Tower ;  and,  after  his  release,  traveled  several  months 
through  Germany  and  Holland,  with  the  intention  of 
disseminating  more  widely  the  doctrines  of  the  Soci- 
ety of  Friends. 

William  Penn  was  now  in  his  twenty-sixth  yeai 
Celebrated,  not  only  as  an  author  and  preacher,  l)ut 
as  a  young  man  of  rank,  wealth,  fine  personal  ap- 
pearance, brilliant  talents,  and  rare  virtues  —  who  had 
suffered  imprisonment  and  sacrificed  much  for  his  re- 
ligion —  no  wonder  that  his  name  rang  far  and  near. 
The  fashionable  regretted  the  loss  of  such  a  star  from 
their  circle,  and  pitied  his  "  fanaticism."  His  own 
sect  reverenced  him  for  his  stern  virtues,  soul-stirring 
eloquence,  and  liberal  sympathies  with  their  suffer- 
ings ;  while  the  opposers  of  their  religion  most  thor- 
oughly hated  and  persecuted  him. 

He  was,  at  this  time,  well  known  by  reputation  to 


WILLIAM   PENN.  391 

G  ulielina  Sprlno-ett,  whom  lie  married  not  long  after 
his  return  from  a  European  tour.  She  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  Sir  William  Springett,  of  Darling,  in  Sussex, 
who  had  fallen  at  the  sieo-e  of  Bamber,  durino^  the 
civil  wars,  in  the  serv^ice  of  Parliament.  After  his 
death,  her  mother  married  Sir  Isaac  Fenington,  an 
eminent  minister  and  writer  among  the  Quakers.  She 
was,  therefore,  educated  in  their  doctrines,  and  her 
character  ever  retained  a  sweet  impress  of  them.  Her 
face  was  very  fair ;  but,  though  beautiful  in  form  and 
feature,  she  was  still  more  lovely  in  disposition.  Dig- 
nity and  simplicity  were  blended  in  her  manner,  and 
her  cheerful,  affectionate  temper  made  her  the  attrac- 
tion of  her  circle. 

Her  home  did  not  escape  the  sorrows  of  persecu- 
tion. In  her  girlhood,  she  saw  her  revered  step-father 
dragged  away  to  prison,  where  he  suffered  close  con- 
finement for  months,  and  was  treated  with  extreme 
severity ;  and  she  saw  him  waste  away  and  die  with 
a  disease  occasioned  by  the  cruelty  of  his  oppressors. 
But  the  lessons  he  gave  were  not  unregarded,  and 
those  scenes  served  to  strengthen  and  nerve  her  for 
greater  trials,  and  taught  her  how  to  bring  under  con- 
trol every  passion  of  her  nature.  Such  was  the  gen- 
tle bride  of  William  Penn ;  and  two  minds  and 
hearts  never  sympathized  more  perfectly.  Their 
affection  was  unbroken  and  unchilled,  till  Death  laid 
his  icy  fingers  upon  her  heart,  and  stilled  its  beatings. 
Many  years  were  lighted  by  the  sunshine  of  her  love, 
and  the  early  days  of  their  marriage,  free  frcm  sor 


S92         DISCO VEEER3    AND   PIONEERS   OF    AMERICA. 

row  and  persecution,  were  spent  happily  in  their  new 
home  at  Rickmansworth.  However,  Penn  was  not 
idle,  here.  He  might  now  have  been  a  gentlemen  at 
leisure,  with  an  ample  fortune  ;  but  his  conscience 
ever  called  him  to  action.  His  time  was  spent  in 
writing  and  preaching,  till  converts  to  his  doctrine 
became  so  numerous  in  his  neighborhood,  as  to  alarm 
Hichard  Baxter,  who  considered  them  a  lost  people, 
and  entered  into  a  public  controversy  with  Penn. 

The  following  year,  Gulielma  Maria  accompanied 
her  husband  to  Bristol,  where  they  unexpectedly  met 
the  celebrated  George  Fox,  just  returned  from  Mary- 
land, America.  Persecution  still  raged  fiercely  against 
the  Quakers ;  but  Penn  continued  to  preach  as  usual. 
He  here  j^arted  from  his  friend,  George  Fox,  who  pro- 
ceeded on  his  way  home  to  his  mother,  then  on  her 
death-bed,  but,  having  occasion  to  preach  at  Worces- 
ter, was  arrested  and  committed  to  prison,  where  he 
was  kept  for  several  months,  till,  through  the  inter- 
cession of  Penn,  he  obtained  his  release. 

In  1676,  Penn  accidentally  became  a  manager  of 
colonial  concerns  in  l^ew  Jersey,  which  situation  pro* 
duced  important  results,  as  his  mind  was  thus  direct- 
ed towards  America  as  an  asylum  for  the  persecuted 
Quakers,  though  he  did  not  immediately  act  upon  the 
thought.  Part  of  the  next  year  was  also  occupied  in 
managing  the  affairs  of  JSTew  Jersey.  After  this,  he, 
in  company  with  George  Fox  and  Pobert  Barclay,  set 
out  on  a  ministerial  visit  to  Holland  and  Germany. 
He  had  received  letters  from  eminent  persons  there. 


WILLIAM    PENN.  893 

nrgiiig  his  visit ;  and,  after  some  delay,  bade  adieu  to 
his  beloved  wife  and  child,  and  also  paid  a  farewell 
visit  to  his  mother,  who  had  remained  at  Pennwood 
since  the  death  of  the  admiral. 

Penn  and  his  friends  finally  set  sail  in  a  packet, 
where  they  were  pleasantly  accommodated,  the  Cajv 
tain  having  served  nnder  Admiral  Penn.  After  ar- 
riving at  their  destination,  and  landing,  they  proceed- 
ed to  Rotterdam,  and  from  thence  to  the  chief  cities 
in  Holland  and  Germany,  preaching  and  distributing 
books.  At  Horwerden,  Elizabeth,  Princess  of  the 
Phine,  held  her  Court.  She  had  offered  an  asvlum  in 
her  kingdom  to  the  persecuted,  and,  being  inclined  to 
favor  the  Quakers,  had  invited  Penn  to  visit  her  and 
explain  the  principles  of  their  belief.  The  Countess 
of  Homes,  who  lived  with  her  as  a  companion,  was 
also  of  a  serious  mind,  and  earnestly  desired  an  inter- 
view. Penn  and  his  two  companions  repaired  to 
the  palace  one  morning  at  seven,  and  were  received 
by  the  princess  with  such  marks  of  kindness  as  deej^ly 
affected  them.  The  habits  of  the  princess  were  ex- 
tremely simple.  Early  rising,  w^th  breakfast  at  seven, 
dinner  at  one,  and  supper  at  seven,  were  customs 
widely  different  from  those  of  the  aristocratic  in  mo- 
dern days.  "Without  ostentation  or  proud  reserve, 
she  appeared  in  her  robes  of  state,  which  became  her 
dignity  without  detracting  from  the  good  nature  and 
overflowing  goodness  of  heart,  at  all  times  manifested 
for  the  good  of  her  subjects.  She  received  her 
strange,  but  deeply-reverenced  guests  with  frank  cor 


Sd4:         DISCOVERERS    AKD    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

diality,  which  at  once  secured  their  confidence  and 
ease.  The  morning  honrs  were  spent  in  religious 
conversation ;  after  which,  though  invited  to  dine,  they 
excused  themselves  and  withdrew. 

In  the  afternoon  they  '^gain  returned  to  the  palace, 
where  a  number  were  assembled  to  listen  to  them. 
Quaker  worship  was  held  with  much  interest  till 
seven  in  the  evening,  when  they  retired,  but  were  in- 
vited to  repeat  their  visit  the  next  day. 

They  were  not  received  till  nine  the  following  mor- 
ning, it  being  the  day  on  which  the  princess  received 
addresses  and  petitions.  A  meeting  was  then  held, 
which  all  the  inferior  servants  of  the  household  were 
ordered  to  attend.  Penn  gave  a  full  account  of  his 
life,  at  her  request,  which  occupied  him  till  late  in 
the  evening,  they  having  supped  at  the  palace.  The 
next  and  last  day,  another  meeting  was  held,  during 
which  the  princess  was  so  deeply  affected,  that  when 
she  bade  Penn  farewell  she  could  scarce  find  utter- 
ance to  her  words. 

Penn,  with  his  friends,  continued  their  travels,  of- 
ten meeting  with  kindness,  and  preaching  at  every 
opportunity,  and  seeking  out  the  religiously  in- 
clined. On  making  inquiries,  they  heard  of  a  young 
countess,  the  daughter  of  the  Graef  or  Earl  of  Fal- 
chensteyn,  who  was  severely  treated  by  her  father, 
on  account  of  the  religious  bias  of  her  mind.  Learn- 
ing that  she  spent  her  Sabbaths  at  the  house  of  the 
minister  of  Mulheim,  they  hastened  to  see  her,  but 
arrived  too  late  to  find  her.     They  wrote  her  a  letter, 


WILLIAM   PENN.  395 

requesting  to  see  her;  to  wliicli  she  replied,  "she 
would  willingly  meet  them  at  her  minister's  house, 
but  she  was  not  her  own  mistress." 

Soon  after  this,  as  they  were  walking  near  the  cas- 
tle, the  Graef  came  out  and  met  them.  Observins: 
their  strange  dress,  he  inquired  who  they  were ;  to 
which  they  courteously  replied.  As  they  paid  no 
homage  to  him,  his  attendants  asked  — 

"  Do  you  know  in  whose  presence  you  stand  ?  Why 
do  you  not  pull  off  your  hats  ?  Is  it  respectful  to 
stand  covered  in  the  presence  of  the  sovereign  of  the 
country  ?  " 

To  which  they  replied : 

"  It  was  their  practice  so  to  do  in  the  presence  of 
their  own  sovereign,  and  they  never  uncovered  their 
heads  except  in  the  performance  of  devotion  to  the 
Almighty." 

"  We  have  no  need  of  Quakers  here,"  said  the 
Graef;  ''get  out  of  my  dominions  —  you  shall  go  no 
further." 

And,  though  they  mildly  expostulated  with  him, 
he  ordered  his  soldiers  to  take  them  away  from  his 
borders. 

The  soldiers  left  them  to  travel  through  a  dreary 
wood  of  three  miles ;  after  which,  they  reached  the 
walls  of  Duyeburg,  but  too  late  to  enter  the  city,  the 
gates  being  shut,  and  were  therefore  obliged  to  re- 
main in  the  fields  till  morning.  They  wrote  a  letter 
to  the  countess,  encourao^inor  her  to  continue  in  her 
belief,    and   endure   with   firmness    the   persecution 


396         DISCOVERERS    AND    TIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

wliicli  had  just' begun.  They  also  addressed  a  letter 
to  the  Graef,  kindly  expostulating  with  him,  and  wish- 
ing him  all  good  in  return  for  his  unkindness. 

After  three  months  thus  spent  in  traveling  and 
preaching,  they  returned  to  England,  but  not  without 
a  dangerous  voyage.  Once  more  united  to  his  family, 
Penn  enjoyed  a  few  weeks  rest  from  his  labors. 

During  the  following  years,  1678  and  1679,  his  time 
was  fully  employed  in  preaching  and  writing,  in  pub- 
lic controversies,  and  the  continued  management  of 
ISTew  Jersey.  He  had,  for  a  long  time,  however,  had 
his  thoughts  fixed  upon  securing  a  tract  of  land  in 
America,  to  which  the  ]3ersecuted  Quakers  might  em- 
igrate and  establish  a  form  of  government  founded 
upon  the  strict  principles  of  justice,  truth  and  love 
to  all  mankind.  In  a  letter  to  a  friend,  he  said  "  that 
he  desired  to  obtain  the  new  land,  that  he  may  serve 
God's  truth  and  j)eople ;  that  an  example  may  be  set 
up  to  the  nations  ;  and  that  there  was  room  in  Ame- 
rica, but  not  in  England,  for  such  an  holy  experi- 
ment." Another  object,  too,  which  was  predominant 
in  his  thoughts,  was  the  conversion  of  the  poor,  wild 
Indians. 

A  debt  of  sixteen  thousand  pounds  being  due  him 
from  the  crown,  he  solicited  its  payment  in  a  tract  of 
land  in  America;  and  his  petition  to  Charles  11.  for 
the  grant  of  it,  after  great  opposition,  on  account  of 
his  being  a  Quaker,  was  finally  acceded  to.  The  idea 
of  "  a  colony  of  Quakers  among  the  savages  of  Ame- 
rica" was  ridiculed,  but  gave  way  to  tlie  considera 


WILLIAM   TENN.  397 

tioii  of  disposing  of  a  sect  about  whom  they  had  r,iven 
themselves  so  mnch  trouble.  The  king  gladly  ac- 
quiesced in  the  plan,  not  only  to  get  rid  of  the  debt, 
but  to  o-ratify  Penn,  for  whom  he  had  a  hio-h  esteem. 
Upon  hearing  the  news  of  his  success,  Penn  hastened 
to  the  palace  to  make  acknowledgments  to  his  sove- 
reign. 

King  Charles  sat  in  his  royal  robes,  in  his  stately 
and  gorgeous  apartments.  The  heavy,  rich  hangings 
of  velvet,  the  ornamental  gilding,  the  luxurious 
lounges,  the  soft,  noiseless  carpet  —  all  gave  an  air  of 
ease  and  majesty.  A  crowd  of  noblemen,  in  rich 
and  elegant  court  dresses,  surrounded  the  throne  of 
the  monarch,  who  from  time  to  time  received  peti- 
tions of  his  subjects,  or  turned  with  a  light  jest  to 
some  of  his  favorites.  The  low  hum  that  ran  through 
the  circle  was  hushed  as  William  Penn  was  ushered 
in  their  presence,  and  they  quickly  made  way  for  his 
approach.  Without  kneeling,  or  doffing  his  hat,  he 
gracefully  saluted  the  monarch,  while  all  gazed  upon 
his  extremely  plain  garb  —  plainer  for  the  contrast 
with  the  showy  trappings  of  royalty  —  and  noted  the 
benignant  and  firm  expression  of  his  countenance, 
through  which  his  soul  gleamed  in  joyous  emotion, 
BO  widely  different  from  the  traces  of  care,  passion, 
and  dissipation,  that  were  strongly  delineated  in  the 
face  of  the  king. 

He  was  graciously  received,  and  Charles  himself 
delivered  the  deed  to  his  respected  subject,  with  a 
few  conditions.     Penn  accepted  it,  with  simple,  grat© 


898         DISCOVEEERS    AND   PIONEERS    OF   A^IEEICA. 

fill  thanks.  He  hastened  away,  and  with  trembling 
hands  opened  the  precious  document ;  and,  to  his  sur- 
prise, found  his  province  named  Pennsylvania,  mean- 
ing "  the  woody  land  of  Penn."  Too  modest  to  ac- 
cept the  title,  he  hastened  to  the  recorder,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  a  Welshman,  and  begged  him  to  change 
the  name. 

"  Well,  then,  what  name  would  hur  like  to  give  to 
hur  province  ?  " 

"  New  Wales,"  replied  Penn. 

"  But,"  rejoined  the  Welshman,  "  though  hur 
should  be  well  pleased  to  hear  hur  province  called 
New  Wales,  yet  hur  has  no  business  to  alter  the  pre- 
sent name." 

Penn  offered  him  twenty  guineas  to  change  it ;  but 
being  still  refused,  he  repaired  to  the  king,  who  re- 
plied that  "  he  had  given  it  a  very  good  name,  and 
should  take  the  blame  upon  himself." 

Penn  immediately  published  the  liberal  terms  on 
which  he  would  dispose  of  the  land  ;  which,  together 
with  the  freedom  of  religious  w^orship,  and  the  just 
and  democratic  principles  upon  which  his  constitu- 
tion was  founded,  caused  great  numbers  to  deter- 
mine to  seek  new  homes  in  the  Western  wilds.  Much 
excitement  prevailed  throughout  Great  Britain,  and 
many  of  different  denominations,  confiding  in  the 
good  name  everywhere  given  to  Penn,  offered  to  share 
the  good  and  ill  awaiting  them  in  the  far-off  land. 

Three  ships,  laden  with  adventurers,  were  soon  sent 
off,  and  the  fourth,  in  which  Penn  was  to  sail,  was 


WILIJAM    PENN.  399 

nearly  ready.  Hastening  to  London,  he  paid  a  rare- 
well  visit  to  the  king,  and  from  thence  returned  to  hi8 
wife  and  children.  He  was  deeply  pained  to  be  so 
widely  separated  from  them,  and  perhaps  forever. 
But  the  constitution  of  the  fair  Gulielma  was  too 
frail  and  delicate,  to  attempt  the  hardships  necessarily 
to  he  endured  in  a  new  home  in  the  wilderness.  With 
a  tearful  and  tender  parting,  he  bade  them  farewell, 
and  committed  them  to  the  Almighty.  Before  leav- 
ing port,  he  addressed  them  an  affectionate  and  beau- 
tiful letter,  in  which  the  spirit  of  love,  hope,  and  faith, 
shone  brightly  forth.  At  length  the  ship  Welcome 
set  sail,  and,  with  mingled  emotions  of  pain  and  plea- 
sure, Penn  saw  the  shores  of  his  native  land  fade 
away  in  the  distance.  But  his  spirit  was  brave,  and 
fitted  to  battle  with  the  obstacles  that  lay  before  him. 
After  a  voyage  of  six  weeks,  they  neared  the  capes 
of  Delaware  Bay,  and  with  shouts,  and  tears  of  joy, 
welcomed  the  sight  of  their  adopted  land.  With 
w^ondering  gaze,  they  looked  upon  the  long,  dark  line 
of  forest,  and  watched  the  narrowing  bay  till  it  be- 
came a  majestic  river,  its  waters  gliding  peacefully 
on  between  shores  covered  with  rich  verdure,  and  in 
the  distance  the  vast  woods  sweeping  away  in  their 
unmolested  grandeur,  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  The 
ship,  with  its  joyous  burden,  glided  over  the  quiet 
waters,  till,  in  the  clear  sunlight,  they  beheld  the  lit- 
tle town  of  Newcastle,  nestled  on  the  borders  of  a 
wide  plain.  As  they  neared  it,  the  inhabitants  gath 
ered  on  the  shore  and  gave  "Jiem  a  heartfelt  greeting 


10(»        DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

With  gratitude  to  God  for  their  safe-keeping,  they 
landed  for  a  few  weeks,  and  then  resumed  their  voy- 
age up  the  river.  After  sailing  about  forty  miles,  they 
reached  a  beautiful  river,  that,  winding  in  graceful 
curves,  poured  its  silvery  waters  into  the  Delaware, 
through  a  mouth  nearly  hidden  in  the  high,  waving 
grass.  Therefore,  the  Dutch  called  it  Schuylkill ;  the 
Indian  name  was  Manajung. 

A  little  further  up  the  river  the  waters  wound  gen- 
tly into  a  half-circle,  leaving  a  mossy,  green  island  on 
the  right.  On  the  other  side,  the  shores  were  pleas- 
antly elevated,  and  studded  with  huge  old  oaks  that 
cast  a  wide  shadow  upon  the  sunny  banks.  Beyond, 
lay  two  Indian  villages,  close  to  the  water's  edge  — ■ 
one  named  Coaquanoc,  the  other,  Shackamaxon,  upon 
the  site  where  Philadelphia  now  stands. 

Soon  as  the  ship  anchored,  a  boat  was  sent  to  the 
shore,  which  was  already  crowded  with  the  half- 
frightened  natives.  The  interpreter  delivered  Penn's 
message,  that  he  would  have  a  "grand  talk  with  his 
red  brethren  the  next  day,  when  the  sun  was  at  the 
half-way  house  in  the  sky." 

Accordingly,  the  next  day,  a  great  assemblage  of 
Indian  warriors  and  their  people  gathered  to  wait 
the  coming  of  the  pale-faces.  Some  stood  in  groups 
along  the  shores,  watching  with  curious  looks  the 
great  ship  that  had  sailed  up  their  river,  like  a  giant 
swan ;  while  others  brandished  their  weapons  and 
tried  their  skill  in  arrow-shooting.  The  adventurers 
ooked  with  keen   eyes  and  trembling  hearts  upon 


WILLIAM   PENN.  401 

the  strange,  dusky  forms  that  filled  the  woods  in 
such  warlike  array  ;  but  Penn  with  bold  firmness  en- 
tered the  boat  that  was  to  convey  them  to  the  shore, 
and  was  soon  followed  by  his  companions. 

Curiosity  overcame  stoicism,  and  the  Indians  crowd- . 
ed  about  the  group  of  new-comers,  examining  their 
apparel  with  eager  wonder  ;  for,  though  they  had  seen 
the  Dutch  settlers,  they  had  never  beheld  the  strange 
garb  of  the  Quaker.  They  were  taken  by  surprise, 
too,  in  seeing  thena  unarmed ;  and,  savage  as  they 
were,  appreciated  the  bravery  and  good  will  with 
which  their  guests  had  thrown  themselves  among  tliem, 
unprotected. 

Some  weeks  before,  commissioners  had  preceded 
Penn,  bought  the  land  of  the  sachems,  made  a  treaty 
of  peace  with  them,  and  told  them  to  be  in  readiness 
to  ratify  the  treaty  upon  his  arrival.  The  appointed 
time  had  come ;  and  as  soon  as  they  had  welcomed 
"  Father  On  as,"  as  he  was  styled,  they  repaired  to 
a  wide-spreading  elm  tree,  that  reared  its  rich  foliage 
to  a  towerinoj  heio:ht,  and  threw  its  branches  to  a  far- 
reaching  circle,  that  shielded  them  completely  from 
the  sun.  Beneath  this  old  forest  tree,  the  chief  sa- 
chem and  Penn  approached  each  other.  Penn  was 
distinguished  in  dress  from  his  companions  only  by  a 
light  blue  sash  of  silk  net-work  about  his  waist,  and 
held  in  his  hand  a  roll  of  parchment,  containing  the 
confirmation  of  the  treaty  of  purchase  and  amity. 
On  his  right  hand  was  his  relative,  Col.  Markham, 


26 


4:02      DiscovEiiErtS  ai^d  vioneees  or  ameeicjL. 

nvLd  was  also  liis  secretary,  and  behind  him  followed 
the  remainder  of  his  friends. 

Some  presents  and  articles  ot  merchandise  were 
spread  on  the  ground  before  them.  The  chief  sa- 
chem then  bound  upon  his  swarthy  brow  a  chaplet, 
to  wliich  a  horn  was  attached,  and  which  Avas  the 
emblem  of  superiority.  Immediately  the  Indians 
dropped  their  bows  and  arrows,  and  in  silence  gath- 
ered themselves  around  their  chiefs,  in  the  form 
of  a  half-moon,  on  the  ground  —  the  warriors  in  the 
front  circles,  the  young  men  behind  them  in  the  same 
order,  and  further  back  the  squaws  and  their  children. 
As  soon  as  stillness  prevailed,  Penn  addressed  them 
in  an  eloquent  speech,  full  of  benevolence  and  kind- 
ness ;  and  when  he  had  finished,  he  advanced,  and 
placing  the  roll  of  parchment  in  the  hand  of  the 
chief  who  wore  the  chaplet,  he  told  him  and  Lis  bro- 
ther sachems  "  to  preserve  it  carefully  for  three  gen- 
erations, that  his  children  might  know  what  had 
passed  between  them,  just  as  if  he  had  remained  him- 
self with  them  to  repeat  it."  The  chiefs  pledged 
themselves  to  "  live  in  love  with  him  and  his  white 
children  as  long  as  the  sun  and  moon  gave  light ;" 
and  replied  to  his  address  in  words  which  are  indis- 
tinctly brought  to  us,  being  transmitted  only  by  tra- 
dition. But  the  words  of  "  Father  Onas  "  were  nev- 
er forgotten,  for  the  Indians  were  ever  ready  and  elo- 
q-ent  upon  the  theme  of  his  goodness.  The  treaty 
was  sacredly  preserved,  and  as  late  as  1722  was  shown 
by  several  tribes  to  Governor  Keith,  at  a  conference. 


WILLIAM    PEXN. 


403 


Tlie  old  elm  tree  was  always  guarded  from  destruc- 
tion ;  and  so  mucli  was  it  venerated,  that,  during  the 
Revolution,  when  the  surrounding  trees  were  cut  down 
for  fire-wood,  a  sentinel  was  placed  under  this,  that 
not  a  branch  should  be  broken.  But  it  was  finally 
blown  down,  and  the  wood  was  made  into  cups  and 
various  articles,  to  be  preserved  as  memorials. 

A  monument  now  occupies  the  spot,  but  is  referred 
to  by  an  English  authoress  as  "  a  neglected  outcast." 
She  says  :  "  It  is  in  a  timber-yard,  in  the  dirtiest 
suburb  of  the  town,  and  looks  like  a  gate-post,  being 
a  plain  stone  obelisk,  about  five  or  six  feet  high,  with 
an  inscription  upon  it." 

After  the  conclusion  of  the  treaty,  Penn  went  up 
the  Delaware,  to  see  a  mansion,  then  building  for  him, 
under  the  direction  of  Colonel  Markham.  It  was  de- 
lightfully situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware,  a 
few  miles  below  the  falls  of  Trenton,  and  upon  a 
"treble  island,  the  river  running  three  times  round 
it."  The  building  was  large,  and  neatly  elegant,  a 
spacious  audience-hall  being  among  its  apartments. 
This  wild  and  beautiful  retreat  among  the  woods  and 
waterfalls,  was  called  Pennsbury,  and  was  intended 
for  the  home  of  his  loved  wife  and  children,  when 
they  should  join  him. 

He  next  selected  the  site  of  Philadelphia,  the  "  city 
of  Brotherly  Love,"  upon  the  spot  where  the  Indian 
villages  stood.  It  was  surveyed,  and  laid  out  in 
streets,  which  retain  their  names  and  places  to  the 
present  day.     Busy  hands  toiled  in  the  young  city 


irOJ:         DISCO YEEF-ES   AND   PIONEEKS   OF   A^IEEICA. 

and  soon  house  after  house  started  up  like  magic, 
though  rough  and  unseenilj.  Before  tlie  end  of  three 
months,  twenty-three  ships  arrived,  bringing  more 
than  two  thousand  persons,  who  were  scattered 
throughout  the  province,  and  made  hasty  prepara- 
tions for  the  approaching  winter.  Those  who  could 
not  provide  themse.ves  shelter,  were  obliged  to  dig 
caves  in  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  remain  in  these 
strange  habitations  till  the  opening  of  spring.  But, 
freed  from  persecution,  they  were  happy  even  there. 
Time  passed  on,  and  the  city  grew  prosperously. 
Penn  remained  nearly  two  years,  during  which, 
peace,  good-will,  and  prosperity,  prevailed.  But  he 
soon  received  letters  from  England,  urging  his  return, 
that  he  might  use  his  influence  at  court  in  preventing 
the  persecutions,  which  were  more  bitter  than  ever 
against  the  Quakers.  Before  leaving,  he  made  trea- 
ties with  many  tribes  of  Indians,  and  feared  not  to 
leave  his  colony  unprotected,  for  he  confided  in  their 
friendship,  and  not  without  reason  ;  they  looked  upon 
him  with  a  reverence  and  strength  of  attachment 
which  never  died  out. 

Bidding  farewell  to  the  English,  Dutch,  and  Swe- 
dish settlers,  who  equally  regretted  his  departure,  he 
set  sail  in  the  ship  Endeavor,  for  England,  where  he 
arrived  after  a  voyage  of  seven  weeks.  Once  more 
in  the  midst  of  his  family,  after  so  long  a  separation, 
he  enjoyed  a  short  repose  from  his  cares. 

Charles  II.  died  at  this  time,  1685,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  the  Duke  of  York,  his  brother,  who  be- 


WILLIAM    PENN.  405 

came  James  IL  This  determined  William  Penri  to 
renew  his  friendship  with  him,  hoping  to  secure  his 
leniency  towards  the  Quakers,  as  he  believed  him  to 
be  a  friend  to  liberty  of  conscience.  Accordingly, 
he  removed  with  his  family  to  Kensington,  that  he 
might  be  near  the  king.  His  time  was  almost  en- 
tirely employed  in  benefiting  the  Society  of  Friends, 
avoiding  politics,  except  when  called  upon  to  use  his 
influence  in  allaying  some  difficulty.  He  was  so 
highly  esteemed  by  James  H.  that  none  could  so 
readily  obtain  access  as  himself,  and  there  were  none 
whose  petitions  were  so  readily  granted.  Thomas 
Clarkson  quotes  the  following  words  of  Gerard 
Croese : 

"  "William  Penn  was  greatly  in  favor  with  the 
King  —  the  Quakers'  sole  patron  at  court,  on  whom 
"ohe  hateful  eyes  of  his  enemies  were  intent.  The 
Hing  loved  him  as  a  singular  and  entire  friend,  and 
miparted  to  him  many  of  his  secrets  and  counsels. 
He  often  honored  him  with  his  company  in  private, 
discoursing  with  him  of  various  affairs,  and  that  not 
for  one  but  for  many  hours  together,  and  delaying  to 
hear  the  best  of  his  peers,  who,  at  the  same  time,  were 
waiting  for  an  audience ;  for  which  they  told  him, 
when  with  Penn  he  forgot  his  nobles.  The  King 
made  no  other  reply  than  that  '  Penn  always  talked 
ingeniously,  and  that  he  heard  him  willingly.'  Penn, 
being  so  highly  favored,  acquired  thereby  a  number 
of  friends.  Those  who  formerly  knew  him,  when  tliey 
had  any  favor  to  ask  at  court,  came  to,  courted,  and 


4:06         DISCOVERERS    A^D   PIONEERS    OF   AMERICA. 

entreated  Penn  to  promote  tlieir  several  requests. 
He  refused  none  of  his  friends  any  reasonable  office  lie 
could  do  for  tliem  ;  but  was  ready  to  serve  them  all, 
but  more  especially  the  Quakers.  Thus  they  ran  to 
Penn  without  intermission,  as  their  only  pillar  and 
support,  who  always  conversed  with  and  received 
then  cheerfully,  and  effected  their  business  by  his 
interest  and  eloquence.  Hence,  his  house  and  gates 
were  daily  thronged  by  a  numerous  train  of  clients 
and  suppliants,  desiring  to  present  their  addresses  to 
his  majesty.  There  were  sometimes  two  hundred  or 
more.  When  the  carrying  on  of  these  affairs  re- 
quired money  for  writings,  he  so  discreetly  managed 
matters,  that  out  of  his  own,  which  he  had  in  abun- 
dance, he  liberally  discharged  many  emergent  ex- 
penses." 

The  king's  extraordinary  favor  towards  him  brought 
him  many  bitter  enemies  ;  and  even  those  w^hom  he 
had  kindly  assisted,  joined  in  the  cry  now  raised 
against  him,  of  being  a  Papist  and  Jesuit.  His 
wide  views  of  liberty  of  conscience  led  him  to  defend 
the  Papist  as  readily  as  the  Quaker ;  and  therefore 
he  was  suspected,  even  by  his  own  sect,  of  endorsing 
their  opinions.  His  intimacy  with  the  king,  who 
was  considered  a  Papist  also,  led  the  mass  to  believe 
their  united  intention  was  the  subversion  of  the  re- 
ligion of  the  kingdom.  For  more  than  a  year  the 
hue  and  cry  continued  ;  but  these  suspicions  were  re- 
moved when,  by  his  constant  efforts  and  persuasions, 
he  finally  obtained  from  the  king  a  public  proclama- 


WILLIAM   PENN.  .  407 

tion,  granting  liberty  of  conscience  to  all  sects,  and 
liberating  from  prison  all  who  had  been  confined  on 
account  of  their  religious  belief.  About  fifteen  hun- 
dred Quakers  were  thus  restored  to  their  families, 
some  of  whom  had  been  imprisoned  for  years. 

During  several  succeeding  years,  various  causes 
combined  to  render  Penn  unpopular,  and  he  was  un- 
justly accused  on  repeated  occasions.  In  1688,  James 
II.  was  oblio^ed  to  abandon  the  throne  and  flee  to 
France,  and  was  succeeded  by  William,  Prince  of 
Orange.  Penn  regretted  the  loss  of  his  friend,  and 
during  his  exile  continued  a  correspondence  with 
him,  which  gave  rise  to  suspicions  of  a  conspiracy. 
His  letters  were  intercepted,  and  he  was  twice  ar- 
rested and  brought  to  trial,  but  no  proof  whatever 
could  be  obtained  against  him  ;  and  his  candid  and 
eloquent  defence  secured  his  release  on  both  occa- 
sions. He  now  retired  from  court,  and  returned  to 
Worminghurst  with  his  family,  where  his  time  was 
spent  in  the  occupations  of  his  ministry. 

Finding  himself  free,  he  now  turned  his  thoughts 
to  xlmerica,  and  commenced  preparations  for  a  voy- 
age, intending  to  take  his  family  with  him.  This  was 
not  to  be.  The  cup  of  bitterness  had  been  but  tasted 
—  he  had  yet  to  drain  it  to  the  dregs.  But  he  de- 
pended upon  his  God  ;  and  his  strong  soul,  that  had 
so  long  struggled  for  freedom,  though  bowed  low,  was 
the  more  purely  chastened,  and  remained  unbroken 
through  the  long  struggle. 

He  had  nearly  finished  his  arrangements  for  the 


4:0 S         DISCOVERERS    AKD   PIONEERS   OF   AMERICA. 

voyage,  ^vlien  lie  was  arrested  by  a  proclamation, 
wliicli  included  others  of  rank,  as  conspirators  in  fa- 
vor of  James  IL,  and  issued  in  consequence  of  an  ex- 
pected invasion  by  tlie  Frencli.  Penn  was  thrown 
into  prison,  and,  after  some  weeks,  being  brought  to 
trial,  was  honorably  acquitted,  as  before. 

Once  more  he  continued  his  preparations  for  going 
to  America,  and  had  appointed  a  day  to  sail.  At 
this  time  George  Fox  died,  and  Penn  being  present  at 
the  funeral,  addressed  nearly  two  thousand  persons, 
who  were  assembled,  thus  paying  the  last  respect  in 
his  power  to  his  deceased  friend.  His  enemies  were 
not  idle  ;  for,  even  while  attending  the  funeral,  mes- 
•sengers  were  sent  to  arrest  him,  on  a  charge  brought 
against  him  by  a  person  named  Fuller,  who  after- 
wards proved  to  be  a  cheat  and  impostor. 

With  suppressed  emotions  of  pain  and  indignation, 
at  this  unjust  charge,  Penn  sent  his  shi^^s,  already  la- 
den with  emigrants,  to  Philadelj)hia,  but  he  himself 
was  obliged  to  remain  behind.  His  affairs  in  Amer- 
'fca  were  greatly  entangled  during  his  long  absence  ; 
and  as  he  had  been  constantly  expending  his  fortune 
for  the  benefit  of  his  province,  without  receiving  a 
farthing  in  return,  he  began  to  suffer  embarrassments 
in  consequence.  But  he  was  obliged  to  sul)mit  to  a 
prolonged  absence,  being  unwilling  to  leave  England 
with  a  stain  resting  upon  his  character.  For  more 
than  three  years  he  remained  in  complete  retirement, 
having  taken  private  lodgings  in  London.  During 
these  years,  sorrow  upon  sorrow  continued  to  crush 


WILLIAM    PENN.  409 

him  to  the  earth.  Banished  from  society  by  false 
charges,  obliged  to  continue  absent  from  his  disor- 
dered colony,  unable  longer  to  advance  means  for  its 
improvement,  the  government  of  it  taken  from  him 
by  the  king,  his  hopes  of  establishing  a  model  state 
defeated,  the  displeasure  of  many  of  his  own  sect  in- 
curred without  just  cause,  and,  more  than  all  else, 
opj:)ressed  by  the  near  approach  of  his  wife's  death  — 
none  but  a  Christian,  and  a  man  relying  upon  his  own 
innocence,  could  have  endured  such  an  accumulation 
of  affliction  with  mild  and  hopeful  resignation. 

Sitting  by  the  bedside  of  his  dying  wife,  in  a  plain 
and  obscure  retreat,  and  endeavoring  to  infuse  his 
own  hope  and  cheerfulness  into  her  mind,  so  bur- 
dened with  anxiety  on  his  account,  he  received  the 
glad  news  of  his  complete  restoration-  to-  society,  and 
the  removal  of  all  charges  against  him-.  J^y  and  sor- 
row were  mingled  then,  during  the  last  hours  of  his 
beloved  companion.  Peacefally  and  happily  she 
breathed  away  her  life,  and  her  pure  spirit  fled  to  its 
joyous  home  without  a  cloud  shadowing  its  departure. 

Penn  returned  with  his  three  motherless  children 
to  their  former  home.  He  remained  with  them  for  a 
length  of  time,  during  which  he  employed  himself  in 
writing,  and  in  the  exercise  of  his  ministry,  having 
been  completely  reconciled  with  his  Society.  He 
was  more  venerated  than  ever  by  them,  and  they  en- 
deavored by  every  method  to  recompense  their  for- 
mer unkindness  and  injustice.  The  succeeding  year,. 
1G04:,  the  government  of  Pennsylvania  was  restored 


410         DISCOVERERS    A2nD    PIONEERS    OF    AJVIERICA. 

to  him  by  King  William,  in  an  honorable  and  grali 
fjing  manner.     For  two  years  longer  he  continued 
preaching,   writing,    and   exerting   his   influence   at 
court,  for  the  benefit  of  the  Quakers. 

In  1696,  he  married  Hannah  Callowhill,  the  daugh 
ter  of  an  eminent  merchant  of  London,  who  belonged 
to  the  Society  of  Friends,  and  returned  to  "Worming 
hurst,  where  his  family  had  remained  since  the  death 
of  their' mother.  A  new  trial  awaited  him  here.  Ilis 
eldest  son,  Springett  Penn,  then  in  his  twenty-first 
year,  who  had  long  been  suffering  from  disease,  died 
a  few  weeks  after  his  return.  His  genius  and  uncom- 
mon  virtues  had  made  him  very  dear  to  his  father 
from  childhood,  and  his  striking  resemblance  to  his 
mother,  in  person  and  character,  caused  his  loss  to  be 
more  deeply  felt. 

Penn  was  little  from  home  during  the  same  yeai, 
except  on  the  occasion  of  a  visit  to  the  Czar  of  Mus- 
covy, afterwards  Peter  the  Great,  then  on  a  visit  to 
England.  The  Czar  was  very  curious  to  know  why 
the  Quakers  did  not  take  off  their  hats,  and  of  what 
use  to  their  country  a  people  could  be  who  would  not 
fight.  He  was  so  much  interested  in  Penn's  explana- 
tion of  their  doctrines,  that,  whenever  opportunity 
offered,  during  his  travels,  he  attended  Quaker  meet- 
ings, and  commended  their  view-s,  by  saying  that 
"  whoever  could  live  according  to  such  doctrines, 
would  be  happy." 

In  1699,  Penn  once  more  made  preparations  to  ro- 
turn  to  America.     Taking  his  wife  and  children,  ho 


WILLIAM    PENN.  411 

embarked  at  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  after  a  tedious 
voyage  of  three  months,  and  an  absence  of  sixteen 
years,  he  arrived  once  more  in  the  hmd  where  his 
hopes  and  aims  were  centered.     He  was  welcomed 
with  acclamations  of  joy.     Proceeding  to  Philadel- 
phia, he  immediately  called  the  Assembly,  and  has- 
tened to  restore  order  to  the  government,  which  had 
gone  sadly  amiss  during  the  long  years  of  his  absence. 
The  severitv  of  the  season  allowed  but  a  sliorf  session. 
Penn,  therefore,  with  his  family,  retired  to  his  home 
at  Pennbnry,  that  stood  alone  on  the  banks  of  the 
Delaware,  amidst  the  luxuriant  forests,  whose  still- 
ness was  yet  unbroken  by  the  busy  sounds  of  civili- 
zation.    King  Charles  and  his  courtiers  would  not 
Iiave  wondered  now  at  his  audacity  in  carrying  his 
Quaker  principles  even  among  the  wild  savages  of 
America,  if  they  could  have  beheld  the  strange  and 
uncouth,  but  sincere,  expressions  of  joy  and  gratitude, 
with  which  the  Indian  warriors  greeted  their  unfor- 
o-otten  "  Father- Onas."     He  received  the  sachems  in 
the   audience  hall  of  his  mansion,  and  renewed  the 
treaties  of  years  gone  by,  which,  though  not  ratified 
by  an  oath,  were  faithfully  kept.     They  told  him  they 
"  never  first  broke  their  covenants  with  other  people  ; 
for,"  as  said  one  of  them,  smiting  his  hand  upon  his 
head  three  times,  "  they  did  not  make  them  there,  in 
their  head  ;  but,"  smiting  his  hand  three  times  on  his 
breast,  said  "  they  made  them  there,  in  their  hearts." 
Time  and  trouble  had  whitened  the  flowing  locks  of 
tlie  venerated  Penn,  but  peace  and  thankfulness  light 


4:12  DISCOVERERS    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

ed  his  face,  as  he  rested  in  his  o.d  oaken  arm-chair, 
amidst  the  Indian  chiefs  gathered  around  him,  with 
their  rude  but  generous  ofierings,  and  welcoming  him 
to  the  land  of  their  fathers ;  and  his  heart  beat  quick 
and  high  with  the  hope  of  bringing  them  to  Chris- 
tianity and  civilization.  He  gratified  them,  too,  by 
returning  visits,  and  witnessing  sports,  and  partaking 
of  their  simple  food,  while  seated  upon  the  mats  and 
highly  wrought  feather  mantles,  which  they  spread  in 
honor  of  his  presence.  He  never  mingled  with  them 
without  leaving  the  "  good  seed  of  the  word."  Their 
gratitude  and  affection  knew  no  bounds,  for  he  had 
treated  them  with  kindness,  and  given  them  equal 
privileges  with  the  other  people  of  his  province. 

Tlie  second  year  after  his  arrival,  he  made  arrange- 
ments for  the  benefit  and  protection  of  the  Indians 
and  negro  staves.  A  few  of  the  latter  had  been  im- 
ported in  1682,  soon  after  the  planting  of  the  colony, 
and  continued  to  be  brought.  In  1688,  the  Quakers, 
at  a  yearly  meeting,  resolved  "  that  the  buying,  sell- 
ing, and  holding  men  in  slavery,  was  inconsistent  with 
the  tenets  of  the  Christian  religion."  They,  therefore, 
began  to  treat  them  differently,  considering  them  part 
of  their  own  families,  giving  them  religious  instruc- 
tion, and  admitting  them  to  worship  in  the  meeting- 
houses with  themselves.  Penn,  during  this  second 
stay  in  America,  in  order  to  secure  the  welfare  of  the 
slaves  and  their  final  freedom,  by  a  legislative  act, 
drew  up  bills  to  that  effect,  and  placed  them  before 
the  Assembly.     But,  to  his  surprise  and  disappoint 


willia:si  penn.  413 

ment,  the  A^ssembly  refused  to  pass  them.  After  two 
years  of  constant  effort  to  improve  his  co.  ony  and 
benefit  the  Indians,  he  received  letters  from  Eng- 
hmd,  which  informed  him  of  jealousies  existing  there, 
and  ')f  an  intention  of  dissolving  the  various  govern- 
ments in  America,  and  bringing  them  under  the  en- 
tire control  of  the  king.  But  Parliament  had  been 
solicited  to  defer  their  proceedings  till  the  arrival  of 
Penn,  "  to  answer  for  himself,  as  one  of  those  W'hose 
character  the  bill  affected." 

^^ith  deepest  regret,  Penn  and  his  family  took  leave 
of  his  people,  and  with  sorrow  and  anxiety,  bade  fare- 
\vell  to  the  Indian  chiefs,  who  had  assembled  at  Phil- 
adelphia, to  pay  him  a  last  visit  —  the  news  having 
gone  far  and  near  among  the  swift-footed  race,  that 
their  white  father  was  going  away  to  his  own  country. 
Assuring  them  he  had  done  all  in  his  power  to  se- 
cure their  welfare,  and  giving  and  receiving  the  prom- 
ise of  continued  friendship,  they  exchanged  presents, 
and  parted.  The  Indians  returned  to  their  forest 
homes,  in  silent  sorrow  for  their  lost  benefactor,  and 
Penn  launched  upon  the  deep,  and  left  behind  hhn 
the  loved  land  he  was  never  more  to  see. 

A  voyage  of  six  weeks  brought  him  again  to  the 
shores  of  England.  But,  upon  his  arrival,  he  found 
that  the  bill,  which  had  caused  him  so  much  anxiety, 
had  been  dropped  entirely,  and,  therefore,  his  voyage 
had  been  to  no  purpose. 

Queen  Anne  succeeded  to  the  throne  about  this 
time.     Penn  was  held  in  high  esteem  by  her,  and  she 


414  DISCO VEKERci    AND    PIONEERS    OF    AMESI'JA. 

frequently  held  long  conversations  with  him  ahoiithia 
occupations  in  America.  He  now  again  resided  in 
Kensington,  but  his  time  was  mostly  spent  in  writing, 
preaching,  and  publishing  various  works. 

In  1707,  six  years  after  his  return  from  America, 
he  was  involved  in  a  law-suit  with  the  executors  of  his 
steward,  Ford,  who  had  deceived  and  defrauded  him 
to  a  large  amount.  This  was  pending  for  a  year  or 
more,  part  of  which  time  he  was  obliged  to  live  within 
the  rules  of  the  Fleet ;  which  probably  led  Burke,  in 
a  speech  of  his,  to  state  that  William  Penn  died  in 
Fleet  prison.  To  get  rid  of  this  embarrassment,  Penn 
was  obliged  to  mortgage  his  province  of  Pennsylvania 
for  six  thousand  pounds,  which  released  him  from  his 
difficulties. 

In  1712,  he  resolved  to  part  with  his  province, 
and  oftered  it  to  government  for  the  sum  of  twenty 
thousand  pounds,  being  but  four  thousand  more  than 
the  debt  for  w^hich  he  had  accepted  it,  when  it  was 
an  unbroken  wilderness.  His  plan  was  not  executed, 
however,  on  account  of  his  serious  illness.  His  last 
troubles  had  broken  the  spirit  that  had  so  long  and 
so  manfully  struggled  against  the  most  severe  trials. 
Old  age  had  come  upon  him,  and  stolen  the  vigor  of 
his  prime,  and  he  could  no  longer  battle  with  the 
storms  of  life.  Apoplectic  tits  continued  to  impair 
his  strength,  and  obscure  the  brilliancy  of  his  mind. 
His  memory  became  indistinct,  and  he  could  converse 
but  upon  the  one  subject  of  his  God.  Everything 
c^lse  lost  its  reality  and  interest  to  him,  and  upon 


A^^:LLIAM  penn.  415 

tins  tlieme,  only,  was  he  ehxjuent  in  liis  hist  days, 
lie  forgot  all  else  hut  God  and  eternity,  and  witli 
these  glorious  thoughts  hrightening  his  dying  hours, 
he  passed  away  earlj^  on  the  morning  of  the  fifth  of 
July,  1718,  at  the  advanced  age  of  sixty-eight. 

His  work  was  finished,  and  he  had  indeed  "  set  up 
an  example  to  the  nations."  While  Yirginia  was  suf- 
fering the  horrors  of  Indian  massacres,  famine,  and 
disturbances  of  every  description,  Pennsylvania  re- 
mained in  tranquil  repose  in  the  very  midst  of  the 
savage  bands  who  meted  out  destruction  and  death 
everywhere  but  among  those  who  slept  free  from  fear, 
beneath  their  very  tomahawks,  and  without  forts,  senti- 
nels or  soldiers  to  protect  them.  They  could  safely  tra- 
verse the  whole  extent  of  forest,  alone  and  unarmed — 
their  simple  Quaker  garb  being  a  passport  to  the  kind- 
ness and  hospitality  of  the  grateful  savages.  The  differ- 
ent effects  of  peaceful  and  warlike  measures  are  now 
strikingly  contrasted  ;  for  "  Captain  Smith's  city,  (old 
Jamestown,)  built  by  violence  and  blood,  is  now  swept 
away  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  scarcely  a  broken 
tombstone  remaining,  tc  tell  where  it  stood.  But 
Philadelphia,  established  by  justice  and  brotherly 
kindness,  though  founded  a  long  time  after  the  other, 
has  grown  up  to  be  one  of  the  glories  of  this  western 
world." 

This  fair  city,  with  the  surrounding  province,  was 

eft  by  Penn's  last  will  to  his  second  wife  and  her 

heirs,  together  with   eleven  others.     His  estates  in 

England  and  Ireland  were  given  to  William  and  Le- 


er:? I 


416         DISCOVERERS    AND    I'lONEERS    OF    AMERICA. 

titia,  the  surviving  cliildren  of  his  first  v>'ife,  Giillehiui 
—  that  being  considered  a  far  more  valuable  property 
at  that  time. 

JSTowherC)  in  the  early  annals  of  the  American  States, 
can  be  found  a  more  complete  character,  or  a  life 
more  closely  modeled  after  the  Divine  Exemplar, 
than  that  of  Penn,  His  name  is  a  watchword  of 
peace,  and  a  tower  of  moral  strength.  Ilis  course 
like  that  of  such  modern  representatives  of  his  sen- 
timents as  the  noble  Hopper,  is  a  testimony  to  the 
victorious  power  of  justice,  truth  and  love.  Even 
the  Pilgrims  came  v>'ith  the  sword  in  one  hand,  and 
the  Bible  in  the  other;  and,  accordingly,  irany  of 
them,  and  of  their  descendants,  found  that  they  who 
take  the  sword  shall  perish  by  it.  The  triumphs  of 
force  and  fraud  are  destined  to  grow  dim,  or  only 
hateful,  in  the  memory  of  the  world.  The  certain 
concpiests  of  Christian  love  will  shine  dov/n  the  long 
avenue  of  time  with  an  ever  brightening  glory. 

THE  ENIX 


^cibn  tC'  lacboii's  |]ublicutions.  49 


MAEIOI   HAELAND'S  WORKS. 


ALONE, 12mo,  $1  25 

THE    HIDDEN    PATH,       .         .  l2ino.,  1  25 

MOSS-SIDE,        .....  12mo.,  1  25 

NEMESIS, 12mo,  1  25 


Of  the  success  of  MARION  HARLAND'S  "ALONE,"  "HIDDEN  PATH,"  and 
"  MOSS-SIDE,"  in  tliis  country,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  speak.    Nearly 

500,000       E,E1.A.DI>ER,S 

testify  to  their  wonderful  popularity.  In  the  language  of  the  Ke^o  York  Olsei'ter — 
"  There  is  genius,  jiathos,  humor,  and  moral  in  her  charming  pages ;  much  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  and  power  to  delineate  character;"  And  of  the  JTew  York  Evangelid — 
"  Home,  sincerity-  and  truth  are  invested  with  most  attractive  charms.  "While  engaging 
the  imagination  she  makes  all  submit  to  its  moral  impression,  and  enlists  the  read  r's  ap- 
probation exclusively  with  the  virtuous  and  true." 

The  Xew  Yoric  Evening  Post,  in  a  review  of  the  "HIDDEN  PATH,"  says  : 

"  The  following  notice  of  this  work,  which  we  find  in  the  Richmond  Enquirer,  is  from 
the  generous  pen  of  Mrs.  Ansa  Cora  Ritchie,  and  contains  a  just  tribute  to  the  literary 
talents  of  the  most  successful  female  writer  Virginia  has  yet  produced  : 

"  '  Let  this  noble  production  (we  use  the  adjective  in  its  fullest  sense)  lie  upon  the  table, 
enliven  the  hearth,  be  the  household  companion  of  every  true-hearted  Virginian.  Foster 
this  gifted  daughter  of  the  South  with  the  expanding  sunshine  of  appreciation,  the  refresh- 
ing dews  of  praise — stimulate  undeveloped  genius,  which  has  never  yet  "  penned  its  in- 
spiration," to  walk  in  her  steps,  emulate  her  achievements,  and  share  her  honors — let 
Virginia  produce  a  few  more  such  writers,  and  the  ciy  that  the  South  has  no  literature  of 
its  own  is  silenced  forever  !  The  "  Hidden  Path  "  is  a  work  that  North  or  South,  East  or 
West,  may  point  to  with  the  finger  of  honest  pride,  and  say  ^^Our  daughter  "  sends  this 
message  to  the  world — pours  this  balm  into  the  wounded  hearts — traces  for  wavering, 
erring  feet  this  "  Hidden  Path,"  which  leads  to  the  great  goal  of  eternal  peace.' " 

As  much,  or  more,  can  be  said  in  praise  of 

*'AL01O:,"   ''MOSS-SIDE,"  AND  "NEMESIS." 

*»*  The  above  will  be  sent  by  mail,  post  paid,  on  receipt  of  prices. 

DERBY   &   JACKSON",    Publishees, 

498  Broadway,  New  YorA. 


48  5"l32  iC'  lacksoii's  gublkations. 

"  iliu  Evans  may  well  be  called  the  Charlotte  Bronte  of  America."— I*/ of/  WMq. 
'  We  |>lace    Bedlah  '  beside  'John  Halifax.'  "—Baltimore  AdtocaU. 

B  E  Ul  AH. 

One  neat  12nio.   Price  SI  25. 


fioin  Marion  Harland,  herself,  the  writer  of  the  most  popular  seriee  of  Ifotell 

ever  puhlished  in  this  country. 

"To  Messrs.  Derby  ♦&  Jackson: 

*'  I  speak  my  honest  sentiments  when  I  pronounce  '  Eeulah  '  the  best  work  of  fiction 
ever  published  by  a  Southern  writer.  To  my  mind,  no  American  authoress  has  ever 
produced  a  greater  book.  Can  it  be  true  that  Miss  Evans  is  young?  There  is  a  life-time 
of  thought  and  research,  of  struggles  of  mind  and  heart,  in  '  Beulah.'  I  have  read 
every  word  witii  intense  interest.  The  character-painting  is  fine,  the  description  of  pass- 
ing events  and  scenery  graphic  and  striking;  but  to  me  the  chief  charm  of  the  book  lies 
ill  ihe  vivid  portraiture  of  the  doubts,  the  conflicts,  the  yearnings  and  the  final  triumph 
cf  a  great  soul  seeking  for  truth.  If  the  public  can  appreciate  a  thoroughly  good  work, 
they  will  thank  yoa  for  having  given  them  '  Beulah.'  " 

From  Rev.  Wnx.  H.  MUburn  {the  Blind  Preacher  Eloquenf). 

"  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  few  books  have  ever  interested  me  more.  The 
plot,  the  delineation  of  character,  and  the  action,  I  think,  are  all  admirable.  It  would 
be  an  extraordinary  work  from  the  hand  of  any  woman,  but  it  is  peculiarly  so  from 
one  so  young.     The  reading  of  it  cannot  but  do  gi-eat  good." 

From  Frederic  S.  Cozsens,  author  of  the'-''  Sparrowgrass  Papers." 

"  I  have  been  greatly  interested  by  this  story  of  the  llobile  heroine,  and  I  am  con 
vinced  that  the  story  will  produce  a  sympathetic  impression  on  the  public  mind.     There 
Is  not  a  word  in  it,  nor  a  phrase  in  it,  that  I  have  not  meted  and  measured.     Over  and 
above  the  method  of  telling  the  story,  the  story  itself  wins,  commands,  controls  the 
synipaties  of  the  reader.     This,  I  take  it,  is  the  highest  test  of  excellence." 

From  the  Home  Journal. 

"■  Since  the  appearance  of  '  Jane  Eyre,'  no  volume  has  fallen  from  the  pen  of  a  lady 
writer  evincing  more  power  and  learning  than  the  novel  '  Beulah,'  and  we  do  not  hesi- 
tate to  say  that  in  the  production  of  this  volume,  Miss  Evans  has  achieved  the  highest 
rauk  atnciig  novelists  of  her  sex  in  this  country." 

From  the  J^ew  York  Evening  Post. 

"  Sh'j  has,  at  any  rate,  established  a  rank  among  the  best  novelists  of  her  sex  whom 
our  country  can  boast,  and  we  do  not  remember  any  work  of  fiction  which  has  been 
prod'iced  in  this  country  for  years,  which  is  written  with  more  power  and  is  more  full  of 
promise  than  'Beulah.'  *  She  has  achieved  a  decided  literary  success,  a  success  which 
will  at  least  be  as  cordially  recognized  at  the  North  as  at  the  South." 

From  ihe  Boston  Post. 

"  '  Beulah  '  is  a  book  of  great  merit,  and  one  which  will  bear  critical  and  close  inspec 
tion.     *    *    *    The  volume  is  one  deserving  the  attraction  of  the  reading  public.     It 
ts  healthy  in  sentiment,  pure  in  its  influences,  and  grand  in  its  treatment  of  greai 
viorxl  questions.    As  a  literary  work,  *  Beulah '  will  rank  with  any  issue  of  the  Jay." 

•jB*  The  above  will  be  sent  by  mail,  peat-paid,  on  receipt  of  price 

W.  H  TmsoJi,  Printer  and   SUreotyptr,   43  4  45  C«ntr«  St.,  K,  Y 


Pcrbg  tC'  |a(hson's  ^ublxcations. 


BOOKS  ¥EITTEK  BY  A.  S.  ROE. 


TiiEHE  is  no  writer  of  the  present  day  who  excels  this  charming  author 
in  the  natural  and  home-Fike  simplicity  of  his  style,  and  the  natural  inte- 
rest and  truthfulness  of  his  narrative.  In  thousands  of  families  and  Sab- 
bath Schools  his  books  are  read  and  re-read  with  ever-increasing  delight. 
The  young  and  old,  the  quiet  and  gay,  are  alike  fascinated  by  his  pages. 
Rival  editions  of  all  his  books  have  been  pubhshed  in  England,  edited  by 
the  llev.  Dr.  Taylor,  where  they  have  already  reached  the  enormous  sale 
of  120,000  volumes — a  sure  indication  that  his  pen  is  one  whose  "touch 
of  nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin." 

IV'E  BEEN  THINKING  ;  or,  Tlie  Secret  of  Success.  12mo.,  clc,  SI  00 
TO  LOVE  AND  TO  BE  LOVED  ;  or,  Strive  and  Win.  12mo.,  clc,  .  1  25 
A  LONG  LOOK  AHEAD  ;  or.  The  First  Stroke  and  the  Last.  12mo,  clo.,  1  25 
THE  STAR  AND  THE  CLOUD  ;  or,  A  Daughter's  Love.  12mo.,  clc,  1  25 
TRUE  TO  THE  LAST  ;  or,  Alone,  on  a  "Wide,  V/ide  Sea.  12mc,  clc,  1  25 
HOW  COULD  HE  HELP  IT  1  or.  The  Heart  Triumphant.   12mo.,  clc,  1  25 

From  the  London  Criti-c 

"  Mr.  Roe  is  one  of  the  most  successful  of  American  writers.  He  has 
originality  of  thought,  and  natural  powers  of  invention." 

From  the  New  York  Christian  Intelligencer, 

*'  Mr.  Roe  evidently  knows  how  to  touch  the  heart-strings ;  indeed,  ho 
sweeps  them  with  a  master's  hand.  At  one  time  we  find  it  impossible  to 
restrain  a  gushing  tear  ;  at  another  every  risible  nerve  is  in  full  exercise.'* 

From  the  United  States  3Iagazine^ 

"  Hogarth  not  more  surely  touches  life  with  his  wizard  spell.  It  is 
transfixed  and  permanent.  '  A  Long  Look  Ahead  '  is  the  crystallization 
of  his  genius,  and,  Hke  Goldsmith's  '  Vicar  of  Wakefield,'  should  be  placed 
upon  the  shelf  to  show  what  American  views  and  manners  reveal,  just  as 
that  simple  tale  tells  of  what  comes  from  English  institutions.  He  is  an 
American  truly  and  heartily  :  American  in  thought  and  feeling,  American 
in  tone  and  language.  His  books  will  live  as  graphic  pictures  of  the  tiracH 
he  delineates.  Rather  of  the  old  school  in  Church  and  social  privileges, 
he  is  sufficiently  universal  to  make  his  delineation  national.  There  is 
about  him  a  complacency,  a  wholesome  cheerfulness,  a  fertility  of  resource, 
a  hopefulness,  a  glow  and  persistency  wholly  Yankee." 

***  The  above  will  be  sent  by  mail,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  pric«» 


46  S«b2  ^  latkoit's  publications. 


A  most  interesting  Work. 


THE  RIFLE,  AXE.  AND  SADDLE-BAGS, 

A  VOLUME  OP  LECTURES 
BY    R,3SV.    TVILLI^IVI    HKINTiY    ]Vxyj^6TJKJT 

One  neat  volume,  12mo.    Price  $1  uU. 


CONTENTS   (IN   PART). 

THE  SYMBOLS  OF  EARLY  WESTERN  CHARACTER. 

The  Untamed  Wilderness — Daniel  Boone — The  Female  Capt're — ^t'f* 
Mysterious  Shot — A  Narrow  Escape — A  Backwoods  Marriage — W«*<^dlng 
Dinner  and  Dance — Homes  in  the  Wilderness — Justice  in  the  Backwooda 
Preachers  in  the  Wilderness — The  Preaoher's  Dormitory — Henry  Beidel- 
man  Bascom — '*  Old  Jimmy's  "  Reproofs — The  Pioneer's  Work. 

THE  TRIUMPHS  OF  GENIUS  OYER  BLINDNESS. 

Beauty  and  Effects  of  Light — Eminent  Blind  Men — Remarkable  Sense 
of  Hearing — John  Milton — Premonitions  of  Blindness — Blindness  an  Im- 
pediment to  Oratory — Sympathy  Necessary  to  the  Speaker — The  other 
Senses  Quickened — The  Blind  Man's  Need  is  his  Gain — '*  I  am  Old  and 
Blind." 

AN  HOUR'S  TALK  ABOUT  WOMAN. 

The  Moral  Greater  than  the  Intellectual — John  Howard  the  Philantbro* 
pist — Ancient  and  Modern  Women — Frivolity  a  Prevailing  Evil — Earnest- 
ness of  Female  Authors — Women  the  Best  Literary  Instructors — Woman's 
Responsibility — The  Power  of  Sympathy — The  Importance  of  Conversa- 
tion— Woman  the  True  Reformer. 

EARLY  DISCOVERIES  IN  THE  SOUTHWEST. 

Exploration  of  the  Mississippi—Gold  Unsuccessfully  Sought — CoUisiona 
with  the  Indians — Attack  upon  the  Chickasaws — Historical  Traditions — 
Incidents  of  Forest  Life — Djspergion  of  the  Settlers     Anglo-Saxon  Sii 
preraacj. 

Address, 

DERBY  &  JACKSON,  Publishers, 

119  Nassau  sfREET,  N.  T 


;  (;i';i;ill!ii.i;i;i  I 


iiLl;  'i-    'iSv 


